


What's Your Number

by KetamineKendra



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist!Steve, Bisexual!Steve, M/M, Multi, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, What's Your Number AU, accidentally dating, bisexual!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:18:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KetamineKendra/pseuds/KetamineKendra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finishing her own shot, she leaned forward. “Two men and four women. One serious relationship.” Clint’s arm went around her as she leaned back into her seat, a wicked grin on her mouth. “So, Bucky, how many for you?” </p><p>He cleared his throat. “Six women.” When Clint raised his eyebrow, Bucky drooped. “Thirteen men. Is that too many?” </p><p>__</p><p>A 'What's Your Number?' AU where Bucky is Allie, Steve is Collin, and Bucky needs to stop sleeping around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is exactly what it says. I was watching What's Your Number? and decided that I wanted to write a fic. All while pretending that I had absolutely no chance of finishing the one fic I've left incomplete. 
> 
> I realize that there is probably a lot of glaring mistakes and liberties, but it's all in good fun.

Bucky blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t a particularly interesting ceiling. A little bit yellow with age and he should probably dust, but it wasn’t a bad ceiling by any means. Maybe he should get up there on a ladder and scrub it tonight. He hadn’t done that in like … ever. Really, he’d never once cleaned his ceiling, that was just bad housekeeping. 

Even in his own head, he could only ramble for so long. Eventually, he was going to have to look over and see that Brock was in bed. Bucky knew he was there because he could feel his weight on his mattress and he could smell his morning breath because he was oh so helpfully mouth-breathing it all over his air. 

Sitting up, Bucky glared at him for a second before he eventually got out of bed and ninja-ed his way to the bathroom. He flushed the toilet as he shut the door, then went to the bathroom. Then he flushed again and washed his hands as loud as he could. Brock apparently just shifted because he was now snoring. Bucky sighed and took a shower. A full hour later, after showering, moisturizing, shaving, debating giving himself a haircut, brushing his teeth, and contemplated that haircut again, he walked out of the bathroom. 

And Brock was still in the apartment. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t in the bed, but he was eating cereal in his boxers. Out of Bucky’s favorite bowl. It was tan stoneware, way bigger than a normal bowl because he was pretty sure it wasn’t for cereal, but it had these sweet little blue bits that were great and it held exactly half of a box of cereal and just the right amount of milk. Bucky glared at his back and then moved to the coffee pot. 

Which he had left with less than half a cup left. 

It took more self control than it really should have, but Bucky managed not to throw the scalding liquid at him. He took a few deep breaths and then poured it into his mug. When he brought it to his lips, he discovered that it would have been an okay idea to throw it at him because it was cold. 

Brock was never coming back here. Ever again. 

***

When he got to work, he was pulled into Mr Pierce’s office. That went just about as well as could be expected when he was planning his housekeeping this morning. Apparently he didn’t have any skills worth keeping around. Or, as Pierce so charmingly put it, they were ‘downsizing’. So, Bucky rode the subway home. 

Steve waved from the mailbox, but thankfully understood that he didn’t want to talk to anyone. Probably it was just because he could read the angry set of his shoulders or something. Or maybe it was because Bucky was pretty sure he looked like he was going to kill someone for looking at him funny, but Steve was smart, it could have been either of those things. 

The rest of what would have been a work day was spent with Bucky in his underwear watching crap movies on Netflix. He spent an embarrassingly long time watching some movie with a blond guy with some mental powers running around China, maybe, with some little girl running away from the government. By the time it finished, it was time to get dressed to meet Rebecca for lunch. 

He was late, because he was always late. Bucky wasn’t sure that the world wouldn’t stop revolving if he managed to be on time for something other than work. Or maybe gravity would stop working. 

That wasn’t important, though. What was important was that Becca looked ready to burst by the time he was to the table. He hadn’t even gotten to hug her, his arms out and a small smile on his face, when she opened her mouth and made him stop dead in his tracks. 

“I’m getting married!” She held her hand up, big rock on her finger that was the only thing in the room that could compete with how big and bright her smile was. She looked so happy and he smiled back because he was happy for her, he really was. It’s just that… 

She was five years younger and she was already in love with someone. Not only that, but she was so in love with him that she wanted to marry him, spend the rest of her life as Becca Procter.

And Bucky was still waking up with one night stands. 

“That’s great! Have you told mom yet?” Bucky made sure that his smile reflected how happy he was, and absolutely none of the self-doubt about his own chances of finding someone like that. 

Becca nodded. “Yeah. She’s already planning it. Wouldn’t be surprised if she finished in a few weeks.” 

Bucky laughed, but Becca didn’t. He narrowed his eyes at his sister, suddenly wondering where this was going. “It’ll be done ahead of time, then. Plenty of time to relax before the big day.” Becca bit her lip. Bucky got a sinking feeling in his stomach. “When exactly are you planning for this big day to happen?”

Becca didn’t say anything for a minute, just gave him the most apologetic smile she could. He waited her out, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows. She lasted two minutes, quite a bit less than usual. “October fifteenth.” 

“Of next year?” He couldn’t help asking, even though he knew he was wrong. And sure enough, she shook her head. “Becca, it’s June. That’s four months.” 

That was the reason he found himself walking into a bridal shop two hours later. “You realize that just because I sometimes sleep with men doesn’t mean I’m actually gay, right?” 

“No, you’re not, but you are my brother and I’d like you to come make sure I don’t look insane when I walk down the aisle.” She smiled sweetly and started walking toward the dressing rooms. Apparently, this was planned in advance, because Bucky was stopped before he could follow her into the dressing room - it didn’t look like a dressing room, he thought it was an office, of course he has no desire to see his sister naked - and told to sit on a couch. “You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

“I’m not a maid.” He yelled, earning dirty looks from the woman bringing fluffy monstrosities into his sister’s room. Bucky made a mental note to refuse to let his sister wear that to her wedding, and then yelled again. “I have my doubts about the honor part, too.” 

Becca stuck her head out of the door, carefully keeping her body behind the door. “You are made of all the honor.” She grinned and pointed at his arm. “And a little metal, but I can accept that.” Her head disappeared and then he heard a sigh before she stepped out. “You can be my maid of metal. Made of metal.” 

The dress looked just as hideous as he thought it would. It was fluffy, like it was made of feathers. She looked like a white big bird. “We should get you some orange and pink striped socks.” Becca grimaced. “And I’m still not a girl. Still have a dick.” 

She glared at him before going back in the room. “Fine, be my Dude of Honor and Metal.” 

“Can I get that on my name card?” She stepped out smiling, since she knew she’d won. “I’m not wearing a dress, though.” 

This dress was completely different. It was fitted and showed off her figure - Bucky still preferred to pretend she didn’t have a figure, that she was still twelve, but he supposed her wedding was probably a big hint that he was wrong but he was going to hold on for as long as he could - but it was still all wrong. “Too plain.” 

“Yeah, I think it needs a little boom-boom-pow.” Becca pushed her chest out at each word, effectively making Bucky cover his eyes and groan. “But of course you won’t be wearing a dress. They’re called gowns.” When he uncovered his eyes with a glare, she laughed and picked up the bottom of the dress so she could walk back into the room. “It’s a tux, you idiot.”

Great. A tux. And the chances of him having a date were slim, so he was going to be uncomfortable in two ways. It was going to be his sister’s wedding, though, so he’d be happy. Happy for her. 

“Bucky.” Her voice was a little shaky and Bucky sat up straighter. This time, when she came out of the room, it was slower and she looked like she was going to cry. The dress was strapless, with crystals and delicate beading across the chest before falling in gentle waves down to her feet. 

It was perfect and Bucky blinked a bit, nodding. “Yeah, that’s the one, Becs.”

Bucky most certainly did not cry, but it was a close call. He could be a dick to everyone else, but when it came to his little sister, he couldn’t help turning into a giant marshmallow. It was apparently worse when he realized that she was getting married. She really, really was. 

***

After making a rather rigorous planning session for alterations and fittings, they decided to get drinks. Natasha met them, dragging Clint with her. Bucky was already a little bit tipsy when sex came up in conversation. The alcohol had to be blamed for what he was saying. “Becca! Why are you getting married? How many relationships have you even had? You’re still a baby!” He narrowed his eyes and leaned toward her, steadying himself with a hand on the back of her chair. “How many people have you even had sex with?” 

Maybe he was more than tipsy. 

Natasha gave him a look, but some of the scariness was drawn out of it by the sheer amount of alcohol they’d had. How long had they been here?

“I’ve been with four guys.” She rolled her eyes at the face Bucky made, and he assumed it was because he’d asked the question so he had to be expecting an answer. “I’ve had two serious relationships.” She sipped her soda, since she apparently had to work early in the morning. 

Bucky blinked because that couldn’t be right. He turned to Clint. “What about you?” 

Clint rolled his eyes and stopped Natasha from hitting him by the simple expedient of grabbing her arm. “One man and six women.” He drank his shot and then grinned at Bucky. “And you know I’ve been married.” 

Natasha was looking at him. She knew he was going to ask, but it didn’t matter. No matter how many looks she sent, he was going to ask. Because now he had to know. “How many?” 

After finishing her own shot, she leaned forward. “Two men and four women. One serious relationship.” Clint’s arm went around her as she leaned back into her seat, a wicked grin on her mouth. “So, Bucky, how many for you?” 

He cleared his throat. “Six women.” When Clint raised his eyebrow, Bucky drooped. “Thirteen men. Is that too many?” 

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Are you happy with yourself?” 

“I mean, yeah.” Bucky leaned back into the chair, running his hands through his hair. Maybe he really would have to cut his hair now that Becca would be expecting him to be standing at the altar with her. That was just a distraction, though. “I guess… I was expecting more from me?”

“What? You’re an accountant, Bucky. You’ve done two tours in Afghanistan. You’re accomplished.” Becca looked so earnest, obviously trying to make him feel better. 

It just made him groan. “I’m an unemployed accountant. I did one and three quarters tours in Afghanistan. And I don’t really give a shit about that, I meant I haven’t had a serious relationship in two years.” He ran his hands over his face. It was so much more depressing now that his sister was so happy and so engaged. He could find find a new job, and he was proud of his military service, thankfully now-mild PTSD and lost limb included. He just kind of wanted to know the same person was going to be there when he woke up in the morning. Every morning. 

Clint slapped him on the knee, causing Bucky to jerk forward to look at him. “So what are you going to do about it?” 

Bucky blinked at him before the perfect solution came to mind. “I’m going to get married. The next person I sleep with will be my husband. Or wife.” 

Natasha, Clint, and Becca all looked at him, each of them blinking at him. The silence got unbearable before Bucky laughed. “Okay, I’ll just be in a relationship before the sex.” 

That got cheers from all of them, and a round of shots for the three that weren’t boring early morning workers.


	2. Chapter 2

His head was pounding. His head was pounding and something toxic must have died in his mouth and he was hungover. Bucky sat up and then looked over, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Of course. 

Nick Fury was in bed next to him. 

Bucky swore under his breath and grabbed his phone, running to the bathroom where he closed the door and dialed his sister. When she finally picked up, he just barely stopped himself from yelling. “Becca! I fucked up!”

“Who did you go home with?” 

Bucky pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. It was the closest he was going to get to glaring at his sister for her rudeness. Why would she assume he went home with someone? He had, but still. “Frankly, I find your lack of faith in me to be quite disturbing. I’ll have you know that I am a pillar of discretion and self-control.” 

“Mm.” It wasn’t even a word and he could practically smell the disdain. Rude. 

But… “Nick.”

It was almost satisfying to hear her choke. “Fury? The big black guy with the menacing eyepatch? You seriously slept with him?”

Bucky groaned and slammed his forehead into the cabinet. Or, he would have been slamming his head into the cabinet if he hadn’t put his arm in the way. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sneak out or if he wanted to lock himself into the bathroom until Nick eventually left on his own, but he definitely didn’t want him awake yet. This was mortifying. How could he sleep with Nick? His old boss should have been off limits, even to his drunk self.

Apparently not. 

“Okay. Well. Maybe he’s a good choice? You should give it a try! Maybe an older man is what you need to keep yourself straight.” She laughed at her word choice just as Bucky grimaced. “You know what I mean.” 

“I’ll think about it.” He peeked out of the bathroom and surveyed the man in his bed. He wasn’t bad looking. Kind of actually pretty hot in a mature, dangerous kind of way. He always wore a leather trench coat, which was kind of hot. This could work. 

That was when Bucky saw… _them._

_Dentures._

Sitting on his _table_.

Bucky suppressed a gag, memories of his grandfather scaring them with his own as a child fresh in his mind. “Nope, not even close. Never. He’s not going to be my boyfriend. His _dentures_ are on my _table_.” 

“Ew.” Becca agreed with him, at least, so he wasn’t completely crazy. 

Bucky finally got off the phone and then did his usual morning routine, hoping Nick would be gone when he got out. Of course, that wasn’t what happened, because the world kind of hated him right now. He was sitting up in bed when Bucky came out to get dressed, thankfully with his teeth back in his mouth. 

He was trying to make him leave, so he only made enough coffee for himself and figured he’d make breakfast later. Or just not eat it if it meant that Nick would be out of his apartment. “So… You have to go to work?” 

“No. I called in last night.” 

Damn. “So… you’re going to hang around at home all day?” 

“Maybe.” 

What was with this guy? Why wouldn’t he leave? Bucky didn’t know what to say to make him go, so he just sat there, holding his coffee while Nick made himself toast. Bucky didn’t even know he had bread. 

There was a knock on the door. Bucky pulled it open without even looking because literally anyone on the other side of the door would make this situation better. 

Except for Steve. 

Steve was tall, muscular, and very attractive. He was also the biggest player Bucky knew. Or, well, player was a bit of a misnomer. Bucky had been on the receiving end of his charms before, though he’d somehow withstood them, and he knew that he was honest. He proposed one night, and that was all. So… something, but not a player. 

“Steve.” 

“Hey!” Steven slid past him and into the apartment, looking back and raising his eyebrow at Bucky when he saw Nick. Bucky just shrugged. 

Things stayed pretty awkward after that, Steve playing on his phone while Bucky sipped his coffee and Nick munched on his toast. 

“Are you busy tonight?” Nick was apparently done with his toast. 

Bucky blinked. “Uh… Well, I -”

“There’s that tenants meeting. Mandatory.” Steve smiled. “Gonna be a long one.”

Bucky could kiss Steve for that. “Oh, yeah! I forgot. Guess I’ll be busy.” 

After that, Nick seemed to lose interest, leaving pretty quickly. Bucky watched him leave. While he was doing that, though, something interesting happened. Steve’s apartment door, 6C, the one right across the hall, opened up and a pretty blond woman walked out and down the stairs. He grinned as he shut the door and rounded on his neighbor. “Are you hiding from your one night stand in my apartment?” 

Steven smiled, one of the sweetest smiles Bucky had ever seen even if he’d never admit it. “Yep. All while helping you get rid of yours.” He raised his eyebrow and pointed at the door. “You realize that guy had one eye, right?” 

Bucky immediately realized he’d made a terrible mistake. He never should have started talking to Steve about this. Of course, he had, so he just groaned again. Then, he went into the bedroom, digging in his pockets from last night because he knew his wallet was in there and he was going to order Chinese and wallow in pity all day. 

Instead of his wallet, though, he found a small slip of paper, the receipt from the bar, with names written on the back. 

“Pepper Potts, Natasha, Clint, Bruce Banner, Tony - Oh, shit.” 

“Who are they?” Steve was standing in his doorway. 

Bucky crinkled the list in his hand and then for some reason hid it behind his back as he turned to Steve. “No one.” 

The smile on Steve’s face was mischievous as he ate an apple. Where the hell were these people getting food in his apartment? He swore he couldn’t find anything when he was hungry, but he’d now fed two people. Both of which were _not_ him and he was still hungry. “I don’t believe you.” 

He narrowed his eyes at him as he poked him, not even caring that it was his metal hand, even though he usually made sure not to touch people with it since it freaked some people out. “I don’t care.” 

Steve just shrugged and walked back out, rolling over the back of his couch and lounging when Bucky followed him. He was still finishing that damned apple. Bucky checked his kitchen but he couldn’t find any more apples. He narrowed his eyes at Steve, even if the blond couldn’t see him, before he carefully smoothed out his receipt and grabbed a pen. 

It wasn’t in any kind of chronological order, but there was the nineteen people he’d slept with. 

Pepper Potts  
Natasha Romanov  
Clint Barton  
Bruce Banner  
Tony Stark  
Sam Wilson  
Peter Quill  
Peter Parker  
Jessica Jones  
Luke Cage  
Loki Odinsson  
Thor Odinsson  
Wanda Maximoff  
Pietro Maximoff  
Jessica Drew  
Sharon Carter  
Brock Rumblow  
Jim Morita  
Gabe Jones

Well, now there were twenty, so Bucky squiggled in Nick’s name on the bottom. Bucky bit his lip. Maybe he should go back and look at all these people. There had to be something redeemable with them. Maybe he’d just cut things short too quickly. 

“So, what is this a list of?” 

Bucky jumped. “Jesus Christ, Steve! What the hell?” 

Steve just gave that infuriating smile again, and then pointed at the list again. “I’m not going to leave it be. What’s the list for?”

He sighed. There was nothing else to do. Steve was definitely not going to leave him alone, so it was best to just tell him what it was. “The people I’ve slept with.” 

The list was pulled off the counter and before Bucky could get it back, Steve turned. “You should definitely add Steve Rogers to the list.” 

“Excuse me?” Bucky blinked. He knew he’d been at the same parties as Steve, but he really didn’t remember anything even remotely like sleeping with the other man. 

That grin was about to be smacked off his face, because Bucky was really sick of seeing it. “Well, you should sleep with me first and then add my name.” 

Oh. That was.. good. “No! The whole point of this damn thing was that it wasn’t supposed to get any longer.” Bucky glared at the paper and, incidentally, Steve. 

“Why?” He looked confused as he sat the list back down on the counter. 

Bucky made a face. What did he mean why? “I don’t want to sleep with anymore people?” 

Steve looked just as confused as before. “Why? Do you have herpes or something? That’s not going to be a fun call to make.” 

He only rolled his eyes. “No, not that I’d tell _you_ if I did.” Bucky sighed and grabbed his pen again, crossing out Natasha and Clint, since they were happily together now. Why did he hang out with his exes again? “I just have to see if there was anything worthwhile in them.” 

“That’s not really clearing anything up.” 

“Why are you still in my apartment? Your one night stand already left.” Bucky grabbed his laptop and set up shop at his table. Then, he pulled up Google. He had some digging to do. 

He got lost in his searching after that. A few people had kids, some were in serious relationships - thank you, Facebook - and some were just irredeemable, like Brock with his _Brock_ -ness and Nick with his _teeth_. By the time he realized that Steve was still in his kitchen, his list was narrowed down quite a bit. 

Pepper Potts  
Bruce Banner  
Tony Stark  
Sam Wilson  
Peter Quill

Those were the ones that he didn’t remember as being particularly noxious and he couldn’t find enough information on them to find out if they were available. 

“Pepper is hooked up with some bigshot.” Steve was looking at his phone when Bucky shot him a look.

“What?” How could he know that? He could barely find anything on her except to know that she worked for a big company. Not even the name of the company, which seemed like a feat. 

Steve just shrugged. “I’m good at finding people.” 

Before Bucky could respond to that, his phone went off. It was a text from Becca, reminding him of his promise to meet her and their mother for lunch that afternoon, ‘in case he forgot’. Which, considering he had zero recollection of agreeing to it, he guessed was warranted. “I have to go, and you have to leave my apartment.” 

Steve shrugged and hopped off the counter before going back to his own apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, don't expect a regulated chapter length from me. I break it where it makes sense, and don't really care how many words. It feels more natural to me. 
> 
> So... What do you think?


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky was just coming back from getting his mail when he saw Steve in the hallway. It was kind of hard to miss when he was completely naked, with what looked disturbingly like a fedora keeping it from being an x-rated situation. 

It was moments like these that made Bucky wish he hadn’t placed Steve so firmly in the no-fly zone. Or, more accurately, the no-fuck zone. The man was smokin’ hot, all tight muscle and beautiful freckled skin. Bucky would love to taste it and touch him and see how he sounded when he was coming. He never would, though, because Bucky didn’t actively seek out one night stands, except for when he was drunk, and Steve seemed to be allergic to relationships. They’d lived across from each other for three years and Bucky had yet to see the same person walk out of his door more than once. 

Internally, he gave a sigh. Then, he smiled. “So... “ His finger trailed through the air, gesturing at his general state of dress, or lack thereof. “What’s that about?” 

Steve shrugged and smiled, a newspaper in his hand. How did he even get a newspaper up here? Was he a wizard? 

“Okay then.” Bucky shook his head and went back in his apartment, telling himself that he was only human when he looked over his shoulder to check out the back side as Steve went back into his apartment. 

For a moment, he stood at his door, a sudden plan going through his head. Then, he turned and walked back out, pounding on Steve’s door. “Steve!” 

Steve had, thankfully or not, Bucky couldn’t tell, pulled on a pair of underwear and a tee shirt in the time between sightings. Bucky didn’t let that bother him, though, he just pushed into the apartment past him. “Mom fell in the shower!” He rushed forward, finding a pair of jeans and a pair of shoes on the ground and picking them up, all while giving a small smile to the woman on the couch. She looked confused, but Steve was covering his pretty well. “Mom fell and we have to go help her!” Bucky shoved the things into Steve’s chest and then kept pushing, aiming him right out the door. Then, he smiled and looked over his shoulder. “We’ve gotta go, thanks for locking up!” 

He didn’t stop pushing until they were in his own apartment. Steve managed to keep his laughing quiet until the door was closed. “What was that about?” 

“I have a deal for you.” Bucky was looking at him with his hands on his hips. 

Steve stepped into the jeans and raised an eyebrow as he zipped them up. “I’m listening.”

Bucky took a breath. “You said you’re good at finding people. I need you to find the people on my list, so I can see if things can work out. In exchange, I’ll let you hide out in my apartment from your visitors.” 

Steve nodded and then grinned. “Deal. Give me the list.” 

Bucky handed it over before he went to get dressed in something other than the hoodie and sweats he was wearing. When he stepped in his room, he shut the door firmly behind him. Then, he gathered his clothes and went into the bathroom, also closing that door. He didn’t want Steve walking in on him changing. He didn’t trust that guy not to come in and have his way with him. 

***

Three days later, Bucky was very sleepily walking out of his room and to his coffee pot, his lovely, wonderful, perfect coffee pot, when he nearly jumped out of his skin. “What the fuck? It’s nine in the morning, Steve!” 

Steve was dressed in jeans and a sweater, with a pillow clutched to his chest and his arm under his head. He was also _on his couch_. “I have an early dentist appointment.” 

Bucky blinked as he tried to think that one through, but it wasn’t working very well. It was only as he was finally pouring a cup of coffee that he got it. There wasn’t an appointment, Steve was just here waiting for his ‘date’ to leave. “She a late sleeper?” 

“He is, yeah.” It was spoken around a yawn.

Bucky just hummed into his coffee before slapping Steve’s knee enough that he moved it. Then, he sat down. His coffee was halfway done before he looked over. “How do you know he’s still there?” 

Steve shrugged and then sat up, stretching and yawning again before pulling out his phone. “I found Bruce. He’s a therapist over on Twelfth. Private practice. He’s a good bet if he’s single.” 

Bucky sat up straight, coffee and good news making him a little more energetic. “Alright. I’ll just make an appointment with him, ‘recognize’ him, and scope him out.” He nodded, wondering what he was going to be using as his issue to need therapy for. It had to be serious enough to need therapy, but it couldn’t be something that was so bad that it would scare him off. And maybe a little sexy. Was there a sexy reason to need therapy?

There was the sound of a throat being cleared before Bucky could think that one through. He turned to look at Steve, who looked amused. “Yeah… He’s a children’s grief therapist.” 

His face fell. “Children? Grief?” Now he had to make up a kid? A kid that had just lost someone? Where was he going to get a kid? How was he going to go to a counselor with a kid but manage to not have a kid if they decided to go on a date?

His thinking was a little too obvious, apparently, because Steve started laughing. “He gets coffee at the Starbucks around the corner. That’s probably a better way to run into him than whatever awful, horrible person thing you were going for.” 

That did make things easier. Bucky glared at him, though, because how could Steve think he was trying to make up a kid? That was a terrible thing to do. Nice people didn’t make up kids with dead parents or something just to score a date with an ex. Frankly, he was offended that Steve could think that of him. 

Steve just raised his eyebrow. That mobile eyebrow was going to be very annoying by the end of this agreement, he was sure. Bucky gave it a good glare, too, just to be clear about how he felt about it.

***

Bucky was on his third coffee by the time Bruce walked into the shop. He was steadfastly ignoring his slightly shaky hands as he checked him out. There was more grey in his hair now, but he was still the quiet, calm man that had first attracted Bucky. They’d dated for a few months, before… 

Why was it that they broke up again?

His eyes narrowed as he thought, but it must not have been too bad if he didn’t feel instantly pissed off when he saw him. Bucky quickly stuffed a few mints in his mouth. Four, actually. It was a little much and the instant wave of peppermint made his eyes water a little bit, but he wanted to be safe. Coffee breath was a bit of a turn off while minty breath was sexy. Then, he stood up, prepared to ‘accidentally’ bump into him and then gush about how good he looked. 

About half way to the other man, though, a woman came in. She had dark hair and that was about the only thing he had the time to notice before he quickly turned around and walked back to his seat because she was _kissing him_. It wasn’t a cheek kiss either, which could be played off as a greeting from a friend, but a full on hug and kiss on the lips that could only come from a partner. 

And it had been just enough to remind him of why they’d broken up. He’d decided to work things out with his _wife_. Bucky hadn’t been pissed because Bruce had told him they were separated before they started anything, and had even let him know that he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He didn’t feel strongly enough about Bruce to be hurt. 

When he made it home, Steve was in the hallway. He looked down the two floors to Bucky, a small smile on his lips. Bucky couldn’t help but think it was at his misery, since it was obvious on his face. That eyebrow went up and Bucky sighed. “Wife.” Steve grimaced and then followed him to his apartment, where they both plopped on his couch. 

The list was now burned into his mind, and Bucky couldn’t help groaning. He knew the hardest one was going to be Tony Stark, because he was _Tony Stark_. He owned Stark Industries, one of the biggest companies in the world. He wasn’t going to be hanging out in a Starbucks, that was for sure. 

They’d gotten together in Bucky’s first year of college, the one he’d gone through before taking off for the army. It hadn’t been a relationship so much as a casual and easy way to get good sex. That was before Bucky had made the connection between Tony, smart mouthed funny guy in his chemistry class, and Tony Stark, heir to Stark Industries. He just hadn’t been expecting him at NYU, for some reason. 

Technically, Bucky should have been able to talk to him pretty easily. His prosthetic was StarkTech, and he knew that Tony had had a personal hand in it since it was a prototype for what they were trying to complete over the next five years. That wasn’t true in actuality, though, because Bucky was constantly rebuffed whenever he asked to see the company head. 

Or, well, he assumed he would be. Why would the Face of Stark want to see a lowly prosthetic user? 

“So, what are the chances you can get a personal number for Stark?” 

Steve choked on the water he was drinking in the kitchen. “What?” 

“What are the chances that you can get a personal number for Tony Stark?” Bucky said it slow, like Steve hadn’t understood him. 

Bright blue eyes just looked at him like he was crazy. “A personal line? To Stark? Tony Stark?” Bucky nodded, and Steve shook his head. “I guess I can try?”

Bucky just nodded again. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I should be offended by the lack of comments or what.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter Quill was the next one to be found. Bucky was a little nervous about this one, since he only remembered that Peter had been very into partying. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t like to party, it was just that he was twenty eight years old. He needed to do something a little more … adult. He didn’t remember disliking anything else about him, though. It wasn’t like he’d cheated. As far as he remembered, they’d parted amicably. 

He was selling his house and was having an open house. That was easy to manage, though Steve came with him. For whatever reason. 

It wasn’t embarrassing at first. No, at first, Bucky had noticed a picture of Peter and a truly stunning woman. Obviously this was a dead end and he needed to get the hell out of here. There were a few other people in the house, looking through everything like creepers. Who just opened closet doors at an open house? Bucky noticed the picture, though, so he was already pulling Steve back toward the door, since he wasn’t actually here to buy a house. He couldn’t exactly afford one when he’d just been fired. 

No, it didn’t get embarrassing until Peter noticed him. And recognized him. And introduced him to his wife, Gamora, who still managed to look gorgeous even though she was very obviously pregnant. That explained the need for more than one bedroom. Bucky was awkwardly trying to work his way through the encounter, wondering where the hell Steve had gone, when he felt an arm around his shoulders. He stiffened, but before he could figure out what was going on, Steve spoke. “Babe, I don’t think this is going to work. You know I don’t want to be that far away from my mom.” 

Babe? For a split second, he was confused. And then he wanted to turn and kiss Steve, and not just because he’d put on some delicious smelling cologne. It was spicy and thick but not in a way that made him want to throw up as so many guys did. Was it cologne or was it his soap? That wasn’t what he was supposed to be thinking about. Bucky slapped a smile on and then let his hand rest around Steve’s (good God!) trim waist. “Yeah, I think you’re right. We should probably look closer to her next time.” 

Peter smiled and stuck his hand out for Steve to shake. “You must be Bucky’s boyfriend! I’m Peter, and this is my wife Gamora. Bucky didn’t mention you before.” 

That was because Bucky hadn’t known about him before, but he couldn’t very well say that now. “I’m Steve. I’d say you have a lovely home, but you’re trying to get rid of it.” Everyone laughed and Bucky wanted to shoot himself in the foot. 

Apparently Steve could be charming to people he wasn’t trying to sleep with, too. They made small talk for a few minutes and then they finally managed to get out of there. When he was sure no one was looking anymore, Bucky shoved Steve, though he wasn’t perfectly sure why. Steve hadn’t actually done anything wrong. “That was awkward as hell.” 

Steve laughed and bumped him with his shoulder. “Could’ve been worse.” When Bucky looked confused, Steve’s smile just got bigger. “You could’ve been alone.” 

Bucky pulled a face because he didn’t want to admit that he was right. It would have been so much worse if he didn’t even have a pretend boyfriend to take some of the pressure off. “Yeah, thanks, I guess.” 

They made it back to their building and Steve didn’t leave him alone. Instead, they ended up on his couch, eating Chinese and watching bad spy movies. Steve didn’t end up leaving until midnight, when both of them had been half asleep and curling into the center of the couch. 

Somehow, Steve still ended up on the couch in the morning. When Bucky left his bedroom, Steve was asleep with one arm over his eyes and the other sliding off the couch and resting on the ground. For a few minutes, probably a few minutes longer than he should have, Bucky just… looked at him. It wasn’t staring. 

Every now and then, it smacked him upside the head. Steve was gorgeous. Everything about him was stunning. His expressive eyes, his lips that seemed to always be smiling, his hair that always seemed to look nice even though it never looked like he did something with it. His hands that always seemed to have some crusting of paint on them. Not to mention the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal the stomach that made it obvious that Steve worked out, if his arms weren’t enough of a give away. 

He finally pulled himself away from watching too closely and turned toward his kitchen. He needed coffee and he needed a shower because he had an interview. Or he had an opportunity for an interview. 

Okay, he had to go hit the pavement until he found someplace that would give him an interview. Rent in Brooklyn wasn’t exactly cheap, and the bit of money he had saved up wasn’t nearly enough for him to make it more than one month if he still wanted to eat. 

His coffee was in hand, and no one needed to point out that he’d left extra in the pot, when he turned around. He glanced at the couch and then forced himself to keep walking instead of stopping as he suddenly found himself wanting to. Steve was awake and looking at him. Or staring. It definitely felt like staring. Bucky was glad he didn’t blush easily because he was suddenly regretting his decision to not wear a shirt. All he had on was a pair of pajama pants, hanging probably lower than absolutely necessary on his hips. 

At least his prosthetic wasn’t one of those that he had to struggle into every morning. His was attached and he was sure that he’d just feel awkward with nothing but a stump.

Once the door of his bedroom was closed behind him, Bucky set his coffee down and ran his hands over his face. Then, he looked at his palms. Usually, he didn’t think about it too much. After four years, his left hand was metal, but it was just his hand, though he’d taken a lot of therapy to get that way. It wasn’t so much the arm that made him so uncomfortable with being naked around people. Sometimes, it even made him feel a little sexy, and that was a thought he never would have expected to have when he woke up in the hospital with nothing where his elbow used to be. 

Mostly, it was the scars. 

He didn’t think much of them when he was looking at himself before a shower or something. They didn’t hurt him and he was used to seeing them peppering his skin, so they didn’t warrant much of a thought from him. They weren’t as gnarly as he’d been afraid they’d be when he first looked at them in the hospital. At that point, he’d only seen angry red marks, some with stitches and some that looked like burns, and he’d thought he’d look like a horror movie reject for the rest of his life. 

The scars were definitely noticeable, though, stark white against the rest of his skin and raised enough that he could feel them when he ran his fingers over them. Some people had a problem with them, some didn’t. He didn’t generally feel like dealing with the people that did, so he just avoided showing them to anyone. It seemed like an easier way to go about his life.

Usually, he kept the light off or his shirt on when he had sex with someone, and it wasn’t like he was taking his shirt off in public, so it wasn’t all that often that someone else got to see them. Even when someone saw them, it was his choice, not something that just popped up. Steve had seen them when he hadn’t really planned on it. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of them, he just felt a little… off kilter.

He still needed to get on with his day, though, so he shook his head and took a shower. Where he most assuredly did not wonder what he would have done if Steve had followed him into his bedroom. 

That would have been crazy. 

At least he didn’t have to tell anyone. The small fantasy was something only him and his shower curtain even had to know about, and that was only because he had to spray off some… residue. 

Maybe this whole no new partners thing was a bad idea.

After his shower, he didn’t much feel like leaving. So he just pulled on his jeans and a new tee shirt and then flopped down on his couch, thankfully empty because Steve must have left during his shower, ordering pizza because he was obviously already a terrible person since he decided not to get a job today, he might as well have pizza for breakfast. 

The pizza arrived an hour later, with Steve holding it. Bucky raised his eyebrow when he answered the door. Steve shrugged. “I saw him come in and decided I wanted some, so I decided to deliver it myself.” 

“And pay?” Steve shrugged again and set the boxes on the coffee table while Bucky grabbed plates and beer. Pizza and beer for breakfast. He was such a good adult. 

Then, they ate while watching a movie, making snide comments around cheese and tomato sauce mouthfuls. When they were done and each drinking their second beer while sprawled across Bucky’s couch, Steve pointed in the corner. “Why haven’t I seen you play that before?” 

Bucky looked at his guitar and shrugged. “Just haven’t.” 

“Buck, I’ve been here almost every day for two weeks. Either you keep it for looks, or you’re intentionally not playing when I’m around.” He looked at Bucky with both his eyebrows up.

There was silence for a few minutes. Bucky knew which was the truth, and it wasn’t that nice of a guitar so Steve had to know, too. He usually played when he got home from work, but since he was fired, he would have started playing in the morning. He loved playing, even wrote some of his own songs. He just… hadn’t played in a while. Bucky sighed and then sat up. “Fine.” 

As Steve grinned, Bucky stood and grabbed the guitar, making sure he grabbed the pick and the leather glove he kept on a shelf above it. He could play without the glove, but it tended to give it a weird sound, metal strings vibrating against metal fingers. He pulled the glove on without looking at Steve and then tucked the guitar onto his lap when he sat down. 

Usually, he didn’t mind playing in front of people. He usually liked the attention. There was just something that was a little too intimate as he played for Steve now. He felt like the skin of his shoulders was a little too tight and his stomach felt like it was going to fall out of him, and he hoped his face wasn’t as warm as it felt as he opened his mouth. 

_And I’ll buy the first round if you come down.  
I hope they serve whiskey in hell.   
And I’ve been rotting slowly from the inside out.   
Gagged on my dreams and let my mother down.  
It takes a monster to attract a crowd._

The song wasn’t a love song or anything like it, thank god, or Bucky was sure this whole situation would be even worse. Instead, it was a bit of a ‘fuck you’ kind of song, like maybe Bucky was confident in who he was and didn’t really give a shit what other people thought. Which was mostly true, when Bucky thought about it. Oh, he was self conscious about his scars and a few other things, and his sister and his mom were both able to change his mind way easier than he’d like, but for the most part, he was happy with who he was.

Steve broke him out of his thinking, clapping as soon as Bucky’s fingers let go of the neck of the guitar. There was a grin on his face that got bigger when he noticed Bucky blushing. “Dude. You’re really good.” 

“How do you know that?” Bucky set the guitar back and then started pulling off the glove. 

“Because I have ears?” When Bucky raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. “It sounds good. I’m not an expert or anything, but it sounds like you have talent.” 

Bucky brushed it aside again, because he didn’t really feel like having that conversation. Steve, of course, didn’t listen. “Why are you an accountant?” 

“Because I don’t want to be broke?” Bucky tied his hair up into a bun and shrugged. “I’m twenty six, I don’t have time to ‘go out and make my dreams come true’. Besides, I never really dreamed about being a musician.” 

“Did you dream about being an accountant?” Steve didn’t wait for him to answer, just shook his head and kept going. “Of course not. Wouldn’t you rather be playing guitar, though? It’s a lot more fun.” 

Bucky kind of agreed with him, but he was accounting because it paid bills and he didn’t have to worry so much. But he didn’t really want to do the musician thing, either. He was very much so going to blame Steve for what he said next. He’d felt weird since he woke up and saw him on the couch and it just got worse all the way to now. That was the only reason he opened his mouth and said what he did. “I dreamed about going career.” 

Steve stopped smiling and looked at him. They’d talked about the army, right around the same time that Steve had propositioned him and Bucky had turned him down. His eyes flicked to Bucky’s shoulder, where the metal of his arm slipped out from under the tee shirt. Bucky could practically see the thoughts going through his brain and took pity on him, shrugging. “I haven’t really gotten a new dream yet.” 

After that, the subject was dropped. Things were still tense, though they both seemed content to pretend it wasn’t. Steve left around ten, the earliest that week, and Bucky laid in bed wondering why it bothered him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will finish this, but I'm not going to pretend I'm going to keep a normal schedule. I have a newborn baby, so things are crazy.

Three days later, he was leaving his apartment when he saw Steve coming into the building. He was wearing a tight white tee shirt and blue jogging shorts, and he was sweaty, blond hair stuck to his forehead and his cheeks flushed. He smiled at Bucky and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Hey.” 

Steve huffed. “Hey. Where you off to?” 

“Dress fitting.” Bucky tucked his hands in his pockets and balanced on the edge of the stair as he watched Steve finish stretching. 

“You’re going to wear a dress?” Steve smiled and looked up at Bucky, his hands on his hips. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. No. My sister is and for some reason she needs her brother with her.” Steve shrugged and slipped past him, up the stairs. Before he got too far, Bucky turned. “Did you ever get Tony’s number?” 

Steve shook his head. “No, he’s hard to get to. I’m still working on it, though.” He gave a small smile and Bucky smiled back before going to meet Becca. That was all he could ask of Steve.

***

June had slipped into July at some point. And then July was August and now it was September and Bucky had found a job. So far, he hated it just as much as he hated the other one. He hadn’t touched his guitar since that odd day with Steve, weeks ago now. He was frustrated, though. He hadn’t gotten laid since that disastrous night with Nick, and he was definitely feeling it. It was making him a little crazy. 

That was probably why, after an hour of laying on his couch in his business casual clothes one Friday afternoon, Bucky finally stood up. He started pulling the clothes off as he moved into the bedroom, leaving him in his underwear only by the time he was in the room. Then, he pulled on a pair of pajama pants and dropped to his knees by his bed. Underneath it, next to way too many things he should probably clean up but was going to pretend he didn’t know about, there was a fifth of tequila. He kept it there because it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He honestly didn’t remember why anymore. 

Two hours later, Bucky was wearing his leather glove and his guitar, even though he hadn’t played in at least fifteen minutes, because his fingers weren’t listening to him so well anymore. He’d tried to play along to the song on the radio, but it ended up sounding a bit more like a demonic cat that got stepped on. That probably had to do with the tequila being halfway gone. 

He was singing, loudly, with the radio when he heard it. “Have you decided to be the new Naked Cowboy?” 

Bucky slammed his mouth shut as he turned and looked at Steve. He hadn’t even noticed his door open, so he probably shouldn’t be drinking anymore. That was probably why he was noticing that Steve had freckles across the bridge of his nose. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? They were actually kind of adorable. He blinked as he shook his head. “No?”After that, Bucky got a little stuck on the fact that Steve was wearing jeans that hugged his thighs and probably his ass. That thought made him wish Steve would turn around, and also miss whatever the hell he had just said. “What?” 

Steve laughed and then walked toward the radio, clicking it off before turning to smile at Bucky again. “So why are you naked with a guitar?” 

For a second, Bucky looked down. He wasn’t naked. He could see his pajama pants still. Thank God, really. For a second, he thought he was a little more drunk than he intended to be. But then he realized that Steve couldn’t see his hips, only the guitar and his naked chest. “M’not naked.” Bucky grinned and danced out from behind the couch, making it a point to shake his red plaid covered ass at his neighbor, before taking the guitar off. He was still dancing, and making an effort to sing along to the song that was still in his head even if it wasn’t on the radio anymore, when Steve reached forward and stole the tequila from him. “Hey! I’ze drinkin’ that!”

That was certainly more slurred than he intended, but he was distracted from that by the way that Steve had taken the bottle to his lips. He wouldn't usually have been distracted that - weeks and weeks of celibacy were to blame, of course - except that he watched him swallow four times before pulling the bottle away and coughing. “Fuck.” The word came out a little higher and breathier than Steve usually spoke, but Bucky just laughed and clapped him on the back. After he got his breath back, he took another sip as he moved to the radio, turning it back on and starting Bucky’s CD over again. “I love this band.” 

Bucky threw his hands up and felt his face split wide on the biggest smile he’d worn in a while. “Knew I liked ya for a reason!” 

The rest of the night was spent with them finishing the tequila, even going to Steve’s apartment long enough to grab another fifth. Steve bore the look with grace when Bucky glared because it wasn’t tequila, or vodka, or even a respectable whiskey. It was rum, _spiced_ rum like some college girl looking to get wasted at a frat party. 

Bucky still drank it. 

Steve managed to keep himself more sober than Bucky, though that wasn’t hard by the end of the night. Bucky collapsed onto the couch, mumbling something about needing a shower and not wanting to sleep alone, while Steve got him a glass of water and a bowl to throw up into if he needed it. For a second, Bucky thought Steve might have lingered by the door, but before he could be sure he fell asleep. 

***

Bacon was sizzling. Bucky could hear it and he never really noticed how loud it could be. It was almost like gunfire when it popped. That thought sent a small shiver of anxiety through him, but he changed his breathing into his calming exercises without really thinking about it. Even the fact that he’d done that made him calm faster, because he’d worked so hard at being able to function like a normal person and it was extremely satisfying to see that it had worked. 

His mind rapidly turned back to the fact that there was bacon cooking in his kitchen and he still hadn’t opened his eyes. He opened them now, staring at his ceiling and feeling like the lights there were sending little light daggers into his brain. Combined with the way the smell of the bacon was both enticing and nauseating, he knew that he had a hangover. 

Not that he couldn’t smell the tequila on his breath. Which, now that he thought about it, definitely tipped that bacon balance in the direction of nausea. Bucky rolled off the couch and didn’t even bother standing up, just crawled quickly to the bathroom. Once inside, he shut the door and lost what little was left in his stomach. 

Did they order pizza last night?

When he was sitting, staring miserably into the toilet and hoping it was finally done heaving, a glass of water appeared on the ground next to him. Bucky blinked at it, confused, until a hand appeared as well, holding a few pills. “You are a literal angel. I love you.” He lunged at the hand feebly to grab the aspirin. It probably looked more like he leaned over and half fell, but that would be ridiculous. Of course he didn’t. 

Steve left as soon as the pills were to Bucky. They went down with a sip of water, and he sat until he had finished the water. Then, he struggled up to brush his teeth and to go back out. “No, you’re better than an angel. You’re a god.”

A laugh filled the apartment as Steve sat down a full plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. “If that was all I needed to make you worship me, I would have done this weeks ago.” 

Bucky only rolled his eyes, since his mouth was currently full of both minty aftertaste and bacon. Surprisingly, he didn’t mind. Once about half of the plate was gone, he looked at Steve, who was eating his own breakfast. “I didn’t have bacon.”

“You also didn’t have eggs. Or bread. Remind me again why you’re considered an adult?” Steve sipped at orange juice that Bucky also knew hadn’t been in his fridge. He hadn’t drank his because he was afraid it would react with whatever toothpaste was still in his mouth. 

“Because I’m a taxpaying citizen, you ass. Did you bring your food here to cook? Why not just cook at home?” He stuffed another piece of bacon in his mouth while Steve shrugged.

“You wouldn’t get breakfast that way.” 

He didn’t know how to handle that, so he just shook his head and moved on from that. “Okay, well. Today I just want to sit on my couch and nurse my hangover.” That was when Bucky noticed that Steve seemed to not have any sort of hangover. “What witchery is this?” He pointed at him. 

Steve only laughed and ate his breakfast. Bucky finished his while glaring at him, mad at the wrongness of the universe that a horrible person like Steve got to get away without a hangover.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you this wouldn't be regular. I promise I'm not giving up, though.

“Have you ever been to DC?” Steve was lounging on his couch on a Saturday morning, feet up on the coffee table next to Bucky’s. They were both wearing pajama pants and tee shirts, though Bucky tried not to notice how much better Steve filled out his than Bucky did. 

His shirt. He had very pointedly not looked at the pajama pants. 

Except to notice that there was a design of shields, red and blue with a star in the middle, all over the dark blue fabric. 

There was a particularly perfect one situated over Steve’s…

“What?” Bucky snapped back into the present, blinking at the cartoon on the tv. Shouldn’t adult men have something more interesting to do on a Saturday morning than watch cartoons? They weren’t even the good ones, since Bucky didn’t pay for the better cable package that had all the old cartoons on it. 

Steve pushed his shoulder hard enough to make Bucky lean with it before glaring at him. Steve widened his eyes. “DC? The capital of the country? You know, crawling with politicians and national monuments.” He lowered his brows as he thought about that. “I suppose the monuments aren’t crawling, actually.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I have, actually. There was definitely a lack of crawling monuments. Why?” 

“I found Sam Wilson.” 

Now his eyes got wide. “Tell me he’s not a politician.” 

A small chuckle fell out of his mouth and Bucky tried not to notice the shape of his mouth. “No. He’s working at a VA there.” 

That made sense. Sam had been someone that Bucky messed around with in Basic. He probably would have made it more of a relationship, Bucky knew they’d been into each other, but DADT hadn’t been repealed until they’d both shipped out to their separate units. By that time, Bucky was more worried about not getting his ass blown up than getting it checked out. 

Of course, maybe he could have paid attention to that, since even with all his attention on staying in one piece hadn’t actually worked all that well. 

“I should go to DC then.” 

Steve looked back at the tv, not looking over even when Bucky started to ask questions about the best airlines to get there. He answered in grunts until Bucky had to make him leave because he had a flight in an hour. 

*** 

When he finally stepped out into the city - after one of the worst flights he’d ever had because there was not one, not two, but three screaming infants that seemed to set each other off on screaming - it looked just the same as he remembered it from right before he shipped out. It made sense for Sam to have settled here. There was a calmness to the place that Brooklyn never had, for all that they were both sprawling and busy. 

Bucky pulled out his phone and checked the address that Steve had given him. It wasn’t a home address, but it was the VA where Sam was undoubtedly found most of the time, so it was just as good. He managed to get there within twenty minutes, only taking two wrong turns because he’d been staring at his phone instead of the streets like an idiot. Thank god no one was around to see it. 

Once he walked into the VA, it didn’t take long to spot Sam. He was just as good looking as before, though the innocence had bled out of him. The same could be said for Bucky, he knew. There was a hardness to him now. Or, more accurately according to Becca, the softness he had was pulled over the hardness, not natural the way it used to be. 

War did that to a guy. 

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes! It’s good to see you!” Sam had moved up while Bucky was distracted with his thoughts. He was smiling and instantly had him wrapped in a hug. 

Bucky smiled back as he returned the hug. “Sam Wilson! How the hell are ya?” 

Sam pulled back, smile still wide and bright. “I’m good, I’m good. You? I see you have some new hardware.” 

He shrugged left shoulder before bringing the hand out, opening and closing it for him to see. “Yeah, I was one of those StarkIndustries recipients. Works pretty well.” 

“I can tell. I’ve heard good things.” He nodded and then waved at a woman at a desk behind them. “Jenna, I’m going out to lunch.”

“Bring me back a coffee.” 

“You need to eat. Your heart is going to explode if you keep drinking that much coffee.” He didn’t even look at her, but smiled harder when she laughed. 

“Coffee, Wilson.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He put an arm on Bucky’s shoulder and pushed him toward the door. Bucky went along with it, following him until they ended up in a diner half a block away. After they sat down, he gave Bucky a look. It was an one that he recognized, searching but gentle. It had gotten more honed over the years. “So, Barnes, what are you doing in DC? Didn’t you say you were going to go back to Brooklyn if you ever left?” 

Bucky ordered a black coffee before looking down at the table. “Yeah, I did, actually.” He cleared his throat. “I’m on this… thing.” 

Sam held up a finger to stop him as a crooning song came from his pocket. He answered the phone with an apologetic smile, while Bucky pretended not to be listening. It was hard, considering there was only three feet of veneered plastic between them and there were only two other people in the place. “Hey, babe…. No, I can bring some home. Don’t worry….Yeah, I’ll see you later... Love you, too.” When he’d hung up, he smiled at him. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

He looked at the phone and gave half a grin. “Boyfriend?” 

“Husband, actually.” Sam smiled and held up his hand. There was no ring. “I keep losing the damn thing, and Riley won’t pay for another one. Already went through two of ‘em.” 

Bucky laughed and leaned back. “So civilian life was easy for you?” 

“Hell no.” Sam leaned back as well, one hand around his coffee mug. “Riley helped a lot. He was my counselor at the VA. Now I’m counseling, too.” His smile got a little odd after that. “So, is that why you came down?”

“What?” Bucky almost spit out the sip he’d just taken, but stopped himself just in time. “What do you mean?” 

Sam shrugged. “You just zoned into that relationship bit real quick. It’s a little telling.” 

Bucky looked down at the table, twisting the coffee cup in his hands. Then he shrugged. 

“What’s going on?” Sam leaned forward now, putting a hand on Bucky’s metal forearm. 

He laughed. “You gonna counsel me now? It’s not exactly a Veteran’s Affair.” When Sam just raised his eyebrow and grinned, Bucky sighed. “Guess I’m getting antsy. Wondering if there’s something I missed with people in the past, wondering if that’s why I’m alone now.” 

Sam held up a finger. “One, you missed out on me because I am a fucking catch.” Bucky laughed because he could tell it was a joke. “Two, you’re what, twenty five?” 

“Twenty six.” 

“Then calm the hell down. That’s not exactly old enough to be playing the old spinster.” He smiled, kinder this time, and patted his arm again. “If you hit thirty and can’t make a relationship last longer than two months, then maybe you have a problem. But not everyone is going to find their soul mate so young. Don’t worry about it.” 

Bucky laughed and ran his hand through his hair after letting it out of the bun he’d put it in. “I know. I just … feel old, older than I am.” 

Sam nodded. “Go back to Brooklyn, hook up with someone if you want, eat ice cream and cry over chick flicks if you’d rather. Just give yourself some credit. You were amazing then, and I’m sure you’re even better now.” 

He couldn’t help smiling. They spent the rest of their coffee time together laughing and trading stories from basic training. Bucky got on his flight feeling lighter and a little less critical of himself. Apparently, Sam had become even easier to talk to since their time together.


	7. Chapter 7

It was ten that night when he got home. He felt better about himself, but also a little depressed. He didn’t want to be alone anymore, he’d decided. It wasn’t that he was lonely. Or, he was, but it wasn’t the soul crushing kind of loneliness he had been when he was sniping in Afghanistan. Then, he had felt like he was the only person in the world, like the _thing_ he was looking at through his scope was just a simalcrum, some lifeless doll that was walking around by the power of invisible strings. 

His therapist had told him that was his mind dealing with the brutality of the acts he had to commit. He tried to believe that over the tiny voice in the back of his head that said it was because he actually wasn’t human himself. 

The rather morose turn of thoughts in his head were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. When Bucky looked up, Steve was standing on the landing, wearing pajama pants and a tee shirt and an odd look on his face. “What put that look on your face?” His own odd look was replaced with a teasing smile. 

“What look?” Bucky tried for happy, but it didn’t quite work out. He winced when he opened his door, glad that Steve wouldn’t see it. 

“The look that says ‘Life has finally kicked my ass.’” Steve followed him in. What had he even been doing on the landing?

“I have a metal arm, life kicked my ass a long time ago.” Bucky rolled his eyes at himself because that wasn’t exactly a good way to get the conversation less personal. There was quiet for a moment, and then Bucky felt Steve’s hand on his shoulder. Bucky let it sit there in silence for a few seconds, but then he cleared his throat and forced some good humor. “Nah, I just got some dreams crushed. No big deal.” He smiled and turned. 

Steve looked at him for a second, but then went with the shift in conversation. “Oh? Did you have big dreams of being big man in DC?” 

“Oh, god no, I hate DC.” Bucky laughed. Steve raised his eyebrow. “Sam isn’t perfect for me.” 

“Why? Is he an asshole?” His face shifted into seriousness as he looked at him intently. “Is he going bald?” 

Bucky couldn’t help laughing hard. He wasn’t sure if it was because what Steve had said was actually funny, or because he felt all of his earlier disappointment had cracked and faded away. When it faded, he was still smiling, but he was relaxed against his counter, his arms braced by his hips. “No, because he’s perfect for Riley.” 

Steve grimaced. “Well, that sucks.” He smiled, though, and set his hands on Bucky’s shoulders again. “I’m going to go change. You’re going to stand there until I come back. Then, you’re coming with me.” 

Before he could ask the questions he wanted to, Steve was gone. He didn’t have long to try to figure it out when Steve was back in jeans and a different tee shirt, tugging him along by the hand out of the building. “What are we doing?” 

Steve didn’t answer. It turned out, they were going to get on the subway and then break into a museum. “We’re not breaking in, Buck, we’re entering toll free.” 

“That’s called breaking in when it’s after hours.” Bucky still followed along. “Where the hell did you learn to pick locks?” 

“Ex. Left me in handcuffs. Didn’t like it, so I learned to pick locks. I can do it one handed if I have to.” He flashed a smile that looked far too sweet to go along with such a _bad_ sentence. 

Bucky was left speechless for a moment as he followed him. Steve flicked on some lights and left others off, until they were standing in front of a painting. It was of a bridge over what he thought was a pond, and it was kind of splotchy in a way that he felt was a familiar kind of thing. He’d taken an art class in high school. Was it impressionism?

Before he could feel like a complete asshole and ask about it, he saw there was a plaque. ‘The Water-Lily Pond by Claude Monet - reproduction.’ He sat there for a couple minutes, but then he started fidgeting. Sure, he had been a sniper, but he hadn’t had to use that inhuman stillness in years. Besides, if he wanted to use it, he had to be doing it for a reason. The painting was nice and all, but it wasn’t exactly riveting. 

Of course, that was what he thought until he looked at Steve. Steve wasn’t staring at the painting, not really. Staring was clinical. What Steve was doing was so much different. He’d been looking at it just as long as Bucky had been, but he hadn’t gotten bored at all. His face was soft and almost reverent. 

He didn’t realize how long he’d been staring at Steve until he turned and looked at him, looking like he’d come out of a daze. “What?” 

“You like this one.” 

Steve ducked his head, looking shy for the first time that Bucky had ever seen. “It’s my favorite. I want to see the real one, but I haven’t been able to.” 

Bucky just nodded, not knowing what to say or even if there was something to be said. 

They looked at a few more pieces, and then left. The subway was closed and Bucky was surprised by it, he hadn’t realized how long they’d been gone, so they had to walk back to their apartments. When they got there, Bucky was going to tell Steve goodnight. At least, he was mostly sure that was what he was going to do, because Steve kissed him and he forgot. 

It was short, and honestly wasn’t that technically good, but Bucky still couldn’t talk right away. He simply blinked at him while Steve opened his mouth, looking decidedly less confident than usual. “I’m sorry, I just -” Bucky cut him off to kiss him again. 

After that, things were a bit of a blur. Not in the not-thinking kind of way, but more that they didn’t care. They moved into Bucky’s apartment and to his bedroom, lips hardly moving away from each other. Their hands were moving over each other’s bodies, but it wasn’t a fast thing. They were slow, feeling and touching without even trying to get clothes off. They were just kissing and Bucky felt like he was on fire and the only way to keep from burning up was to keep kissing him. So he did, he kissed him until he couldn’t breathe anymore and then he moved and shifted his hips, realizing that he had gotten situated between Steve’s legs at some point. Steve looked at him, his eyes wide and lips red. Bucky couldn’t resist, he kissed him again, oxygen decidedly unimportant. 

By the time they fell asleep, Steve was shirtless and Bucky had left mutlitple marks on his skin. They hadn’t come, they hadn’t even touched each other, but he didn’t care. He felt pretty good with the way things were right then, and he wasn’t going to overthink it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I wasn't done or on a schedule. :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I wouldn't be quitting. It's just that I have zero idea when I'll actually be updating. Just don't give up on me!

He never got around to cleaning the ceiling. It was still dusty and there was a patch in the corner that looked like a reminder to call the landlord. Bucky stared at it for a few minutes, but he knew it wasn't going to suddenly drop or anything else that would pull his mind away from his bed. 

His empty bed. 

Both hands moved up to cover his eyes, fighting against the pricking sensation he could feel building. The last thing he needed to do was cry over Steve Rogers. What did he expect? For him to stay the night? 

Ha. Bucky should have never kissed him in the first place. It was a bad idea from he very beginning. He did he expect it to be anything else? 

After a few minutes, wallowing in self pity while half naked, he finally decided to get up and get in the shower. There, self pity turned to irritation. Who the hell did Steve think he was? Did he think that everything he'd done was just a work up to sex? They hadn't even had sex last night! Why the hell would he stick around when Bucky wouldn't even put out?

As he dried off and started dressing, irritation turned to full blown anger. Steve Rogers was an asshole and he could deal with his own one night stands from now on. Bucky wasn't going to help him with anything. Bucky wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. Bucky - 

Was probably pretty far gone on Steve Rogers. When he came out of the bedroom, Steve was coming back into the apartment, a donut box in hand, as well as two giant cups of coffee. “You were out of coffee.” That wouldn't have been enough to make Bucky forgive him, except Steve kissed him, quick and efficient like his dad used to kiss his mom, just a quick way of saying ‘I'm thinking of you’ as they went about their day. He kissed him, even though he had to have seen the look on his face. Bucky knew that his anger and disappointment had to be sitting on the surface, but Steve chose to ignore it and make it better without words. 

All of the anger fizzled right out of Bucky, leaving him content and maybe a little in love. Maybe. Just a little. Just a smidge.

Steve sat down on a stool, using his left foot to push the one beside it out. Bucky sat down and hummed as he bit into a donut. The hum might have also had something to do with the fact that Steve hooked his foot around Becky’s so that they're ankles were twisted around each other as they ate their sugary breakfast. “What are you doing next weekend?” The words burst out somewhere between his raspberry jelly donut and the chocolate cake one. For a moment, he considered regretting it, but he felt too good. 

Steve shrugged. “No plans so far.” He smiled as he bit into another donut. 

Bucky debated licking the glaze from Steve's lips but he did realize that was a little creepy. Maybe when they'd been together for a while. The thought made him smile a little as he sipped his coffee. “Did you want to come to my sisters wedding?”

“Oh, Buck. I don't even know your sister.” The tone was obviously a joke, so Bucky didn't take offense. He just rolled his eyes until Steve bumped into his shoulder. “I'd love to go. But only if I'm your date.”

“What else would you be?” He finished his last donut before turning his mind to savoring the coffee. 

Steve was throwing away the empty donut box when he shrugged. “Sometimes I get hired as a wedding painter. It's hard and I tend to turn it down unless I'm desperate, but I can technically do it.” 

“A wedding painter?” What the hell was a wedding painter? Should he have found one for Becca? 

Steve leaned against the counter next to him and grinned. “They basically want to make me paint scenes from the wedding, like a photographer.”

Okay. That sounded like it could be nice, but… “But aren't paintings, you know, not instantaneous?”

“Exactly.” He shrugged and then crossed his arms. “It's hard as hell and people get mad if it's not done by the end of the night. So, I don't do it unless I'm desperate for money.” 

Bucky looked at him for a moment, shoving away wants until he realized he didn't have to. If he was reading this correctly, and donuts seemed to say he was, he was allowed to do this. So Bucky stood and got close to Steve, pressing their lips together and resting his metal hand against his hip. Steve tasted like sugar and coffee and he was pretty sure that it didn't matter if they'd been kissing for less than twelve hours, he was addicted to it. Steve kissed like he was taking him on an adventure but wanted him to stay safe, sweet but firm, pushing his tongue in gently but very thoroughly tasting all of Bucky back. When the kiss ended, both of them were smiling. 

Bucky could get used to this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And look! It hasn't even been a month since the last chapter! I'm so proud of me.

Steve had spent the night nearly every night since that first one. They would eat dinner together and watch something on TV, then go to sleep together. Some nights they just cuddled and talked in the dark, but other times, things got a bit heavier. They hadn’t gone as far as they could have, but there had been quite a few times where hands - and mouths - had wandered. Honestly, Bucky just felt happy. It was nice and he didn’t want to overthink things, so he didn’t. He just was. 

When Becca’s wedding finally rolled around, Bucky woke to Steve in his bed. He couldn’t do much more than feel him up and kiss him, though, before he had to run off. With the wedding being so rushed, there were a lot of things that Becca had to do herself. Herself meaning her family while their mom made her sleep in and get a message so she was relaxed for her wedding day. Bucky couldn’t help wondering if his wedding would be like that or if she’d just shrug and leave him alone. 

Who was he kidding? His mom was going to have his wedding planned by the end of the day. Today. She’d probably been planning it ever since he actually showed an interest in dating. He also figured she’d have a plan that worked for whatever type of person he was going to marry. The fact that he’d be surprising her with actually having a date was just going to make things worse. He didn’t mind, though, because he’d get to dance with Steve. He could think about his wedding some other day. 

As he was pulling on his tux, Bucky realized exactly how happy he was. Steve made him stupid happy. He had put up flowers, folded napkins, even tackled trying to put table cloths on the tables with the runners in a way that made his mother happy. He’d done all of it while laughing with his dad and staying in a good mood, even when he got frustrated. That wasn’t normal for him. He was more likely to get pissed off and leave for a drink. But no, now he was smiling and joking and fucking happy. 

He was stupid into Steve. He was so stupid into Steve that he didn’t even mind introducing him to his mom right before the wedding. He saw Steve come in with the guests and dashed out to meet him. They didn’t kiss or anything, mostly because he knew he wouldn’t have the time to get back to where he was supposed to be if he got started. Steve’s lips were like a black hole, taking all of Bucky’s attention and time without him even realizing it. He contented himself with a hug while his mother looked on from the side. She was greeting other people, though, and couldn’t excuse herself to come meet Steve. The look she leveled at her son made him sure that he’d be dealing with it later, though. 

Thankfully, he managed to rein in all that love while he watched Becca actually get married. She came down the aisle and looked beautiful. Bucky managed not to cry, but Jeffrey wasn’t so lucky. He cried as soon as he saw her and didn’t stop until she was in front of him and grabbed his hand. Bucky probably wouldn’t have forgiven him if he’d managed not to cry. Any man that wasn’t brought to tears by his sister’s beauty wasn’t worth her time, in his opinion. 

The ceremony was beautiful, short enough that no one got impatient, but also heartfelt and sweet enough that he saw more than a few people crying. Bucky felt proud of himself that he didn’t cry at all. Probably because he’d gotten all his crying out while drinking with her and with Steve at different points. He was all cried out. 

Finally, it was time for the reception, and after the receiving line was all done, they were free to sit down. Bucky had barely managed to get near Steve when his mother was suddenly right beside them. Steve’s smile slipped a little, but then it came back as Bucky indicated her. “This is my mother, Winifred.” 

“Call me Fred.” His mother was smiling and looking just a little too excited for someone that hadn’t even had any champagne yet. 

Steve hadn’t even been able to say anything, but that didn’t seem to mess him up too much. He held his hand out to her and smiled wide and charming. “I’m Steve.” 

“Steve?” Fred looked at Bucky and he raised his eyebrows. She gave a small nod and then turned her attention back to Steve, shaking his hand. “So you’re Bucky’s date? He didn’t warn us that he’d be bringing one.” 

Steve cocked an eyebrow at Bucky, but kept smiling at Fred. “Well, ma’am, I don’t know why he wouldn’t. He’s known I was coming for a while.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mention you were coming because if I had mentioned that I had a date, mom and Becca would’ve been outside your apartment last weekend, just to scope you out.” 

“I never!” Fred looked indignant, but Bucky knew she knew it was true. 

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t have to negotiate that conversation anymore, since Becca was tapping on her glass. He leaned forward and gave Steve a small kiss, then smiled as he went up to the main table. Becca wasn’t going to hold to tradition for most of this, so it was only during the speeches that he was expected to sit up with the rest of the wedding party. After all of their speeches - Bucky didn’t cry, though it was a near thing - it was time to eat and Bucky was excused to sit where he wanted. Obviously, he wanted to sit next to Steve. They talked through the meal, tapping knees and sharing far too many looks, until it was time for the first dance. Then, it was time for Bucky to go back to wedding duties. 

Becca and their dad danced while everyone looked on. It was some country song about loving her first and Bucky was thankful that it was dark. There were a few tears he had to wipe away before the first dance with the newlyweds. That one was less emotional for him, since they picked some random 90s rap song he only vaguely remembered. They didn’t slow dance, instead pulling out some complicated choreography, showing off Becca’s shoe change from classy heels to funky bright orange high tops. After that, the dances were open and everyone was free to dance. Bucky got in a dance with his sister and his mom before the first slow dance came on. That was when he pulled Steve on the dance floor. 

_Stay with me, baby, stay with me.  
Tonight don’t leave me alone._

They were standing closer than they absolutely needed to, Bucky could feel the heat of Steve’s body against his chest. He could feel the hard bones of Steve’s hips under his hands and he couldn’t help smiling at him. “Thank you for coming.” 

Steve smiled and squeezed his hips. “And miss you in a tux?” He lifted one hand and ran it through Bucky’s hair. “I like the hair cut, by the way.” 

The haircut had been a last minute demand by his mom. He’d acted like he was more against it than he was, which made his dad hand him a twenty to get it done. In the end, it was a free haircut so he didn’t mind at all. “Thanks.” 

_Well, I’m not sure what this is gonna be,  
But with my eyes closed all I see  
Is the skyline, through the window._

“Where is your mom?” 

The words broke through the almost trance-like calm he felt. Bucky looked around until he saw her sitting at a table, watching his dad dancing with Jeff’s sister’s daughter, little feet on top of his dad’s dress shoes. He directed Steve’s attention there. “Why?” 

The smile that Steve wore almost blinded him. “I’ve got to dance with my boyfriends mom.” 

“Boyfriend?” Bucky was grinning as he said it, though he attempted to look stern for a few seconds. It fails miserably, so he gave up pretty quickly, letting the happiness he felt bubble out into a big smile. 

Steve kissed him then, softly but with enough feeling in it that Bucky felt his stomach shaking. “Yeah. Boyfriend.” 

_Hold my breath as you’re moving in,  
Taste your lips and feel your skin.  
When the time comes, baby, don’t run.   
Just kiss me slowly._

Bucky was back at the table, watching people as he drank a glass of water. Steve was dancing with his mother, obviously charming the hell out of her. She was smiling and it looked genuine, just like the smile on Steve’s face. He was struck with how happy he was and let the surroundings affect him, wondering if this was it. Was this the _one_ relationship for Bucky? Before he could get too far in that thought, a light distracted him. Steve’s phone was on the table and he’d just gotten a text. 

Now, Bucky wasn’t especially nosy. He had a healthy sense of curiosity, but he didn’t think he went beyond the boundaries too often. But Steve had called him his boyfriend, right? So it obviously wasn’t a problem for him to pick it up and type in the code that he had seen Steve type in before. Then he pulled down the notification bar to see the text that had just come in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what's gonna happen, don't you?


	10. Chapter 10

It was a text from someone named Rocket. Who the hell goes by the name Rocket? Was it just a joke? Bucky rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips, before he looked at what it said. 

**Did you give that guy the number? I worked hard for that.**

Now Bucky was more curious, so he clicked on it. It brought him to the conversation. The text immediately above the most recent one was one from Steve, saying thanks. It was the one above that one that made him stop, the smile dropping off his face. 

**Tony Stark’s personal line. (212)5558782. You better appreciate it.**

It was dated for July. 

July.

Steve had gotten Tony Stark’s number in July and hadn’t ever given it to him. 

A cold ball of betrayal blasted into his stomach. He felt cold all over, but also burning hot. He couldn’t think about it now, though, because they were at his sister’s wedding. That made him angry all over again. Steve had had the balls to come to his sister’s wedding! He’d had the balls to start some bullshit relationship with Bucky. 

He tried to swallow but he couldn’t at first. His mouth was dry. Finally, when he managed, he got up and went to his sister. The night was winding down, so he didn’t feel too bad for leaving. He just knew that he was going to be a complete mood kill if he stayed now, so he made his excuses, saying he was tired and that he just wanted to go home. Becca made a joke about wanting to ‘go to bed’, winking, and he gave a hollow laugh instead of answering. Then, he left, not bothering to tell Steve. He could find his own way home. 

When he got home, he grabbed a pad of paper and scribbled a note on it and taped it to his door, then lay on his bed with the fifth of vodka he’d bought on the way home and a glass. His bow tie was undone and resting across his shoulders, but his jacket was crumpled on the kitchen floor. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for himself. He felt like he’d finally made a good decision, and now he found out that he was wrong. Again. Steve wasn’t a good guy. Steve was just going to lie to get his way. He must have been a lot more bothered by Bucky telling him no than he’d always played it off. Why else would he have lied about it? Why the hell would he even want Bucky enough to lie, though? 

By the time there was a loud knocking on his door, Bucky had managed to kill half of the bottle of vodka. “Bucky! C’mon, Bucky, please let me in.” He kept knocking and suddenly Bucky felt tears gathering in his eyes which just pissed him off more. He sat up in bed and glared at the door. Without thinking about it, he whipped his glass at the door, knowing as it left his hand that it was going to shatter against the door. He still had some of the skills the army had taught him, apparently, because he was right. The glass shattered loudly against the door and rained down onto the wood floor. Bucky wiped his eyes and glared at the door, hearing Steve sigh as the last of the glass slid down. A small thump followed the sound, like Steve had rested his head against the door. “Okay. Okay.” He sounded hurt and it made Bucky want to throw something else at the door, but all he had was his fifth and there was no way that was leaving until it was gone. Bucky laid back down as he heard a small scraping sound. It was followed by silence and he knew that Steve had returned to his own apartment. Bucky was free to wallow in his own anger.


	11. Chapter 11

When Bucky woke up, he stared up at his ceiling for a few minutes. It felt like his brain was trying to beat its way out of his skull. His whole body felt shaky and uncomfortable, and he knew it had a lot to do with the fact that he’d drank a lot of liquor and no water before he fell asleep. He concentrated on the feeling of his hangover rocking through his body, thirst and nausea making his stomach quiver, so he didn’t have to think about why he’d drank so much. Eventually, though, his brain kicked over to the problem. 

Steve had lied to him. Steve had lied to Bucky so that he could sleep with him for some unknown reason. The thought twisted his stomach so that the nausea won the battle and he just made it to the bathroom to throw up. It was mostly stomach acid, though the burn was supplemented by the sharp astringency of vodka. 

Bucky stayed on his knees in front of the toilet until he had stopped heaving, then he toppled to the side and put his flesh arm over his eyes. If he was going to cry, he could at least hide it from his shampoo bottle. An hour later, he’d thrown up twice more and then brushed his teeth and taken two aspirin before making his way out of the bathroom. As he walked out, he was greeted by another sign of last night in the form of shattered glass on the floor, glinting in the morning sunlight that was coming through the window. He stared at the mess, not missing the brass key mixed in with it. He didn’t want to mess with it, though, so he just ignored the mess as he made himself coffee. 

Things stayed rather shitty after that. The side of his filter slipped in the coffee maker, meaning there were grounds in his coffee. He didn’t much like chewing his coffee, but he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it, so he just spit the grounds into his sink after each sip. When he’d finished his coffee, he looked down at himself. He was wearing a pair of boxer briefs and his undershirt, but he didn’t remember taking his dress shirt or pants off. It must have been some time after he’d thrown his glass at the door. Some time after Steve had read his note and slipped his key under the door. 

Angrily, Bucky stalked to the bathroom to take a shower, rinsing the smell of vomit and vodka off of his body. When he was finished, the silence in the apartment was too much, so he sat down in his pajama pants and started watching TV. Hours passed with episodes of some teen drama show that he honestly couldn’t stand but he lost his remote at some point and didn’t care enough to look for it. He got up once and ate a piece of leftover pizza. It was hard and rubbery and dry, but he didn’t taste much of it anyway. 

When night fell, Bucky couldn’t handle it anymore. He grabbed the broom and the dustpan and started sweeping up the glass in front of the door after carefully picking out his key and throwing it in the bowl on the table. When he was mostly sure he had gotten all the little pieces, he opened the door, intending to grab his note and then shut himself back inside. Instead, though, he only opened the door and then stared. 

Steve was sitting on the floor in front of his own door, knees pulled up and his arms braced on them as he stared at Bucky’s door. He was still wearing his suit from the night before, the only concession to how much time had passed being that his tie had been loosened and the top button of his shirt was undone. He was even still wearing his dress shoes. “Bucky!” 

Bucky swallowed and then turned, ripping his note off the door and then stepped back inside, slamming the door behind him and locking it again. With the note clutched in his hand - _I want my key back_ \- he leaned against the door, trying to breathe enough that he wouldn’t cry again. Why was Steve out there? Was he going to try to explain himself? Why did it matter? He’d already gotten what he wanted. Explanations were just going to make it harder for both of them. 

_Knock..knock._

The sound was soft but just to the right of Bucky’s head. Bucky clenched his jaw, wanting Steve to just leave so he could sit and lick his wounds in private. Steve didn’t get the picture, though, because he started talking. “I didn’t know what happened, at first. You were gone and I didn’t know why. Then I grabbed my phone to call you and ask where you were. You saw the text didn’t you?” 

Bucky sucked in a breath as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to hear this story, but he couldn’t force himself to move away. 

“Rocket got me that number a long time ago.” Steve stopped, a quiet mumble following that Bucky couldn’t hear through the door. “I didn’t give you the number, though. I know that’s the problem and I know what it looks like, Buck. But it’s not. It wasn’t like that.” 

A thump vibrated through the door and Bucky knew with some kind of certainty that Steve was laying his head on the door now. “Please let me explain myself. I promise it isn’t what it looks like.” 

Bucky dropped his head back against the door, staring up at the ceiling while he tried to breathe himself calm again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for Tony, as he's a very intimidating character for me.

“Please, Buck.” Steve hadn’t given up in the ten minutes that Bucky had been staring at the ceiling and trying not to cry. He didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, and Bucky only hoped that he didn’t hear that Bucky lost his battle. It might have been true, until the tears and the build up of snot made it so he couldn’t breathe and took a big wet breath. When Bucky had his breathing back under control and had angrily wiped at his eyes, Steve started speaking again, his voice muffled by the door between them. “Tony Stark is just so… He’s Tony Stark. He has money and he has influence and he has the world’s attention on him. I couldn’t compete with that.” 

Bucky swallowed and wiped his eyes again. He wanted to ask what he meant, but he didn’t want to say anything at all. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say a word because Steve started talking again. “You were so obsessed with finding everyone that I knew you wouldn’t be paying attention to me. I needed you to, though. Every time we talked and every time we hung out, I wanted more. I want you so much and I knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice if you had a chance with Stark.” Silence for a beat and then Steve continued. “You have a shot with him. If you can get him to talk to you for just one minute, he’d be head over heels for you. You’re so good, Bucky. So amazingly good.” 

“Please go.” It was almost silent, but Steve seemed to hear. He cleared his throat and then, a few seconds later, Bucky heard Steve’s door open and then close. As soon as he heard it, he stopped holding himself up. He dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, though he didn’t cry. He seemed to have cried himself out already, so now all he had was sadness. 

He didn’t mope long, just for a few minutes. Then, he stood up and started going through the motions of a normal Sunday night. Despite what Becky would say, Bucky wasn’t always a dramatic mess. Last night, he had allowed himself the full spectrum of his emotions, but he had to buckle it away now. He had to go back to work tomorrow and he had to avoid Steve. Having to do both of those at the same time was going to be draining. He took a few deep breaths and then did his best to shut off his brain. 

It worked for a while, almost a week. He’d managed to avoid seeing Steve and make it through work without fucking up too badly. Every night, he zoned out in front of the TV, watching whatever crap he could find that didn’t make him think about anything. He drank a beer while he watched, then ate take out, then showered and went to bed. He didn’t touch his guitar and refused to acknowledge any knock that sounded on his door. In all, it was one of the most depressing, numbing weeks he had ever endured. On Friday, when he came home prepared to do the same thing, things were derailed by a small slip of paper taped to the door. When he pulled it off, it was Tony Stark’s name and number in Steve’s handwriting. He sighed and then walked inside with it clutched in his hand, irritated that he’d been reminded that Steve existed. 

Of course, that night he drank a bottle of whiskey. When he woke up, another hangover rattling around in his skull and making him walk very softly, he made coffee and was wondering if he was going to feel human again any time soon when he heard his phone chime. Since he had no idea who would be texting him, he glanced at his phone and then almost had a heart attack. “Jesus fuck!” There, on his screen, was evidence of extreme stupidity.

> Hey Tony! How’s it goin man? I was wonderin if we could catch up soon i havent seen u since college

The ding he had heard was the response to his own dumb drunk text.

> I’m flattered, I really am, but I already have someone to share a bed with and you already have an arm.

“What the fuck?” Bucky stared for a few minutes. How did Tony even know who he was? Well, that was kind of easy to figure out, since it was Tony, but the rest? He didn’t know what to do, and apparently that meant that his fingers did what they wanted.

> Wha tthe fuck?

He dropped his phone on the counter and then went to take a shower. This was not something he had any desire to deal with at the moment, not when it felt like his skull was too small for his brain. He spent a half hour in the shower, steaming away his headache and hoping that magically his problems were gone when he got out. Of course, that didn’t happen. His phone was ringing when he stepped out of the shower, and he slipped on his way to grab it. Holding his knee which had broken the fall, he answered without really looking who it was. “Hello?”

“Were you dying? I called like four times.” Bucky yanked the phone away from his ear to look at it. There definitely were missed calls, but it was more like twelve. That wasn’t the most surprising thing, though. He hadn’t heard Tony’s voice since college and he hadn’t actually expected it right this second. “Hello?! Bucky!” 

“Yeah, what? Sorry? Why are you calling me?” Bucky sat down, his hips only covered with a damp towel. 

There was the sound of a drill before Tony started speaking again. “I didn’t recognize your number last night - should definitely tell me who got the number to you. I either have to fire them or hire them. But when I found who it belonged to, I did some snooping.” More drilling and what sounded like typing. He must be on speaker. “Probably most of it was highly illegal, but I did find out that you’ve contacted a disturbing number of people you’ve slept with before. I could only assume that you were doing the same to me.” 

“Um..” Bucky knew it sounded crazy. He also knew that there was no way to describe it to Tony without it sounding even crazier. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. 

“What is this about? Someone give you Herpes?” 

Bucky slapped the table. “What? No!” 

Tony laughed. “Then what is it about?” Bucky stayed quiet, which apparently was a good way to get Tony talking again. Now that he was talking to him again, he was starting to remember this stuff. “Look, whatever it is, I’ll help if I can. You were always fun in college. Before you decided to leave and get yourself blown up. I have a girlfriend, though - maybe you remember her? Pepper? The most perfect human being on the planet and far better than I deserve?” 

Bucky couldn’t help laughing, cutting off whatever Tony was going to follow that up with. Pepper was with Tony? She definitely was better than he deserved. When he finally could stop and calm down, there was the sound of more drilling over the phone. After a few seconds, Tony came back on, sounding miffed. “You done now?” 

He nodded, even though Tony couldn’t see. “Yeah, I’m done.” Tony gave a grunt that he assumed was a good thing. “Uh… I guess I don’t need to talk to you.” Tony grunted again. “Okay, Tony. Bye.” 

“Come in next week Thursday after six. I want to look at your arm.” 

“What?” How did they switch to his arm? Wait, this was Tony. Of course they had switched to the technology. “Why?” 

“Because I haven’t looked at it since I designed it and I want to see how it’s holding up.” Before Bucky could respond, he had hung up. 

With the silence came the realization that he had been relieved. He’d been relieved to know that he didn’t have to go on a date with Tony - regardless of the fact that even if he were single, Bucky still wouldn’t have had to. He would have felt like he needed to, even though he knew that he really only wanted to go on a date with Steve. This whole week, he had been refusing to think about it, had been drinking, because he didn’t want to admit to himself that he missed Steve. He missed breakfast with him, he missed waking up to him on the couch, he missed drinking and singing 90’s punk rock with him. He missed that last week of having Steve next to him in bed and kissing him. 

He could forgive him for lying. Bucky understood why he’d done it. While he didn’t like it, he couldn’t actually say he wouldn’t have done the same thing. He just wanted Steve.

Decision made, he stood up and walked toward the door, taking three steps before he remembered that he was only wearing a towel. “Fuck!” He turned back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans, not bothering to pull on underwear. If he knew that he wouldn’t be seen, he’d probably stick with just that. Mrs Delaney downstairs liked to walk the stairs to ‘exercise’, though he thought it had more to do with the fact that she’d caught Steve locked out of his apartment in nothing but, in her words, a pair of the tiniest black socks you’ve ever seen and the nicest skin that the Good Lord did give him. He didn’t want to give her nightmares with the disaster his shoulder was, so he pulled a tee shirt on. Then, he ran to his door, pulling it open. 

Just in time to see a pretty blond woman be let into Steve’s apartment. Bucky reacted without thinking, stepping back and shutting the door softly, hoping that neither Steve or the woman saw him. Then, he dropped to the couch, holding his face into the pillow in an offhand hope that he suffocated before he had to process that.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say thank you so much for all the comments! It makes me feel really appreciated and happy.

Bucky didn’t leave his apartment for the rest of the day. He ate the ice cream he had in his freezer, carefully picking around the freezer burnt parts and wishing he had the guts to leave for something better than plain vanilla. Today was a candy bar day. He needed something full of caramel and chocolate and enough sugar to make him forget. 

While he’d been dealing with missing Steve like a lost limb - yeah, it was a shit comparison but he was feeling a little emotional, so sue him - Steve had been off getting back on his hit-it-and-quit-it train. Had he even been off? They’d only been together - or whatever quasi-hell it had been - for a week or so. And it had ended a week ago. For all Bucky knew, Steve had been sleeping with people the entire time. It wouldn’t have been hard, since he had to go to work and Steve was free to do whatever. Had he really been that stupid? Again?

His phone started ringing. “Hello?” 

“Where the hell have you been, James?” Bucky blinked. Natasha was calling him, but it was Clint on the screen. He hadn’t bothered to change Clint’s ringtone since he didn’t call often. He didn’t particularly like wearing his hearing aids and so preferred to text since he couldn’t read lips through a phone. Natasha’s was a soundbite from a ballet he had gone to with her once. “Hello?!” 

“I’m here.” Bucky sighed. “Haven’t really felt like going out.” 

“So you just decided you didn’t need to talk to us?” Her voice told him that he had made a serious error in judgement. 

“I’ve just… You know what?” He made a decision. “Come over now. Bring Rocky Road.” She barely gave him an affirmative answer before she hung up. He dropped the phone and then slumped to the side, staring at the TV screen until the door opened. When it did, Clint came in, carrying a plastic bag full of what was obviously multiple cartons of ice cream. Behind him was Natasha, carrying two paper bags. One was full of what smelled like Chinese food, and the other clinked. “Did you bring booze? I knew there was a reason I loved you.” 

Clint brought out ice cream, a pint for each of them as well as a spoon each, and sat on the floor across from the couch. It was easier to keep track of conversation for him if he could easily look at whoever happened to be speaking. Natasha and Bucky had already adjusted themselves to it, so they each spread out, backs pressed into the corners formed by the back of the couch and the arms. Clint dug into his ice cream, stuffing his mouth full of java mocha chocolate coffee whatever the hell it was that he obsessively ate. With his mouth full, he spoke. Of course, he was the only one that could do that, since he couldn’t read anyone else’s lips if they did. His response when anyone complained about it was to learn sign language and they’d all talk with their mouths full. They each did know some, enough to converse easily, but it took longer. “So what happened to turn you into a little bitch?” 

Bucky glared, his mouth full of the chocolatey, nutty, marshmallow-y goodness that was his requested Rocky Road. When he glanced at Natasha, she pointedly took a bite of her mint chocolate chip as she stared at him. Resigned, Bucky got his bite down as quickly as he could and then launched into his story. “You remember how I said I wasn’t going to sleep with anyone else, but then I went home with Nick?” Clint looked like he was about to gag and even Natasha grimaced, so he assumed they did remember. “I decided that I was going to go back over all the people I’d been with and see if there was any potential left in them.” By the way that Natasha rolled her eyes, he knew she thought it was a dumb idea. So did he, now. “I ended up striking up a deal with Steve that he would look for the people I couldn’t find easily, and in exchange, he could use my apartment to get away from his one night stands.” 

“His whats?” Clint looked up, his eyes confused. 

“One night stands.” Bucky signed it as he said it, assuming he must have looked down at his ice cream without thinking about it. He really needed to start hanging out more often if he’d forgotten to keep his mouth unobstructed. When Clint nodded, Bucky took another bite or two and then put the carton on the coffee table. “Peter is married and his wife probably already had their baby by now. Bruce got back with his wife. Sam is married to Riley. That’s not really the important part, though.” 

Natasha had finished her ice cream and only looked at Bucky as he continued, her face blank in the way it was when she disapproved of whatever she was hearing. Honestly, she looked like that a lot when he spoke, so he wondered why they were such good friends. “We were hanging out all the time. At least a few times a week, but every day for the last month or so. We slipped into this -” Bucky stuck his hands up and shook his head, fed up with himself. “Whatever. We were sleeping together and he called me his boyfriend at Becky’s funeral.” 

Clint was no longer eating, his carton completely empty as he leaned back on his hands. Natasha’s arms were crossed as she looked at him, her eyebrow up. Just as he was about to finish the story, Clint jumped up. “Food!” 

“You just ate, you bottomless pit!” Natasha glared after Clint, but his back was to them as he went for the Chinese food on the counter. Bucky jumped up to help him, deciding it would be better than sitting and watching Natasha glare at him. Or worse, deciding to talk. She knew what he had done because as soon as the cartons and chopsticks had been passed around - as well as the requisite three orders of crab cheese and sweet and sour sauce laid on the coffee table - she grabbed a piece of her beef with broccoli and looked at him. “Speak.” 

“I’m not actually a dog, you know.” When Clint laughed, Bucky tried to split his glare between the two of them and failed, so gave up. “You guys are assholes.” He took a bite of his sweet and sour chicken - he had a thing for sweet and sour, shut up - and made sure to chew it thoroughly before swallowing, just to piss them off. It felt good, at least until he started talking again. “The only person Steve never got in contact with was Tony Stark, but I didn’t care.” 

His friends were really assholes. They pestered him at the worst times and never let him be when he wanted them to. When he needed it, though? The three of them silently finished their food and then waited for Bucky to be ready to speak. If they really were as awful as he said they were, they wouldn’t actually be his best friends. “It turns out he did contact him, or at least, had a way to contact him.” Shrugs, feeling his lip shake as he fought the urge to cry again. “He got his number in July and never gave it to me.” Natasha leaned forward, resting her hand on his shoulder as did the same from the floor after scooching forward. He shook his head and took a breath. “He said it was because he wasn’t sure he could compete Tony and he wanted me. And I fucking fell for it, Tash.” 

Natasha didn’t even flinch at the nickname, so he knew he looked pathetic. “I was going to forgive him, and then I went to talk to him before you called and there was a girl going into his apartment. I don’t think he stopped screwing around. When did I turn into a dumb asshole that falls for stupid jerks?” Tears streamed down his cheeks, even though he tried to hold it in. 

“You’ve always fallen for jerks, but it doesn’t make you dumb.” Natasha rubbed his back. 

“Yeah, you’re not dumb. Just have terrible taste in people.” When Bucky looked up, he saw that Clint had put his hearing aids in. It was probably best, because they hadn’t even touched the liquor Natasha had brought. “Sorry.” He could only assume Natasha had glared. 

Bucky just gave into it. He cried for a few minutes and then pulled away from her, wiping his eyes. “I’m so fucking sick of crying over Steve Rogers.” 

Natasha wasn’t going to let him wallow now that she had gotten the whole story. She distracted the three of them with shots and a cooking competition, making them take shots every time there was something they didn’t recognize or every time someone made something ‘deconstructed’, as well as whenever she felt like they’d gone too long without one. After an hour, Bucky wasn’t as depressed, after two, he was drunk, after three, he was in a good mood. 

And then there was a knock on the door. 

Bucky had already been standing to fetch another bottle of vodka from them, so he answered the door. Just because it was his apartment didn’t mean he would be the one to answer the door if that weren’t true. When he answered it, he felt his eyes go wide and his mouth drop open in shock. “Oooo, you shouldn’t be here.” The words were said almost sing-song with a laugh in his voice. 

Steve looked confused. Probably more by the mismatched tone, than by the words. “Why?” 

“‘Cause you made me cry.” Bucky smiled when he said it, the rather ridiculous amount of liquor in his veins making it possible. 

Steve looked sad, but Bucky didn’t have much time to think about it before he was being moved bodily aside. It never seemed to matter how much they all drank, Natasha could always make both of them look like rowdy teenagers while she seemed perfectly poised - even if she’d just been egging Clint into giving Bucky a lap dance because she thought it would be funny to see him squirm. 

Bucky got a quick look at Steve’s very confused face before the door was ripped from his hand and slammed shut. He glanced back at Clint who shrugged before holding up the bottle. That sounded like more fun to think about, so he grinned and happily went to join him for a shot.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, life got hectic. I apologize for such a long wait between chapters. I've been trying to stick closer to the 1-2 weeks between updates instead of the 2-3, but that's life for you. 
> 
> You've possibly already noticed that there is an end in sight? Yes, it looks like there will be only one more chapter. However, I will let you know, that it's only a tentative thing. I just don't like surprising people with the ending, I like to give a little warning that it's coming.

Bucky woke to the smell of bacon and eggs and possibly pancakes. When he lifted his head, his sheet was stuck to his cheek with dried drool and his mouth tasted like a distillery floor. He moaned and groaned as he made his way to the bathroom, shakily brushing his teeth and drinking water until he felt human again. The hangover was pulling at his head, reminding him why it was almost always a bad idea to drink with Natasha and Clint. The hangovers were not worth it. 

Since he felt so disgusting, he jumped in the shower and stayed in until he felt lightheaded, then got out to drink another glass of water and pull on pajama pants. Since both Clint and Natasha had seen him naked on more than one occasion, he didn’t bother with a shirt as he made his way into the kitchen. “You guys couldn’t be fucked to wait for -”

Natasha was sitting at the island, a cup of coffee in her hand, Bucky’s pajama pants and tee shirt on her body, and looking as if she had gone to bed at the perfectly reasonable time of ten o clock instead of the three am that Bucky knew it had been. What threw him off was that Clint wasn’t the one cooking breakfast. Clint was actually eating his breakfast, sunglasses on like a tool and looking as bad as Bucky had felt before his shower. Clint had been even later to bed than he and Natasha had, since he’d been throwing up rather spectacularly when Natasha and he had crawled into his bed. Bucky woke up briefly when Clint finally crashed next to them, not bothering to pull on clothes from Bucky’s dresser and instead sleeping in his boxers and stealing all their covers. 

No, the person flipping pancakes and stirring scrambled eggs was Steve.

He heard Bucky come out and had twitched his lip in some fascimile of a smile before turning back to the stove, though Bucky had simply stood rooted to the spot. He looked to his friends for some kind of explanation, but didn’t get one. Clint didn’t even have his hearing aids in and was steadfastly trying to drink his weight in coffee - Bucky was pretty sure that that mug was one that his grandma had given him for soup. Natasha looked radiant and perfect, as usual, but she only raised an eyebrow at him before going back to reading what he was sure was the news on her phone and sipping her own, much more modest amount of coffee. 

Now, he obviously didn’t know why Steve was in his apartment. He only vaguely remembered seeing him last night when he’d knocked on his door. Why had he done that? As Bucky tried to remember what he’d said, he realized he hadn’t said anything. No, Bucky had been the one to do the talking, at least until Natasha came and stole Steve away. As a matter of fact, he didn’t really know when they’d stopped talking, just that eventually Natasha had been back and they’d continued drinking. 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose as he remembered telling Steve that he had made him cry, but he wasn’t a coward. There was a reason he was just down a limb instead of dead, like so many of his unit had been after the IED. He took a breath and walked fully into his kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee, wondering who had made more after Clint must have drained it. He turned and leaned against the counter, trying not to be bothered by the fact that Steve was less than three feet away from him and making breakfast. There were only the two stools in his apartment and neither of his best friends seemed at all inclined to vacate and he had a rule about eating breakfast on his couch. That was the way he sat for the next few minutes, thinking and trying not to think too hard about Steve and what he’d said to him, until Nat abruptly stood up, tapping Clint on the shoulder. When he had stood up as well, Natasha placed their mugs into the sink and then kissed Bucky on the cheek. “I’ll see you next week.” 

“Uh..” They were just going to leave him here? With Steve? What the hell? “Okay?” The look Natasha gave him was complicated. He was sure that it was supposed to be telling him something, probably something important, but he was too hungover. He had no idea what the look was saying, besides ‘Bucky, you’re an idiot’, but her face was always saying that. “Bye?”

Clint shook his head, but that was the end of it. Natasha walked out the door, Clint following after, leaving Bucky alone in his apartment with Steve. He refilled his mug and then went to sit at the island, not sure what to say and so just keeping his mouth shut. 

Natasha wouldn’t be so cool with Steve being here if she were still mad at him, which she definitely would be if Steve hadn’t explained himself pretty damn well. Swallowing more coffee, Bucky looked up at him. Steve had yet to actually look at him, but he didn’t know that he wanted him to. He wanted to think it through some more. Whatever he had said was enough for Natasha to forgive him for hurting her best friend, so it was either a very simple explanation, or something that only Natasha thought was a simple solution and she’d be pissed at Bucky if he didn’t understand and forgive Steve for it. 

This was even more complicated than it already was. 

Bucky was snapped out of his thinking by the plate of food placed in front of him. “Thanks.” Steve nodded at him and grabbed his own coffee mug, resting his back against the counter where Bucky had been standing before. He didn’t know what questions to ask and so he didn’t ask any of them, just started eating. After his first bite of pancake went down, he looked up. “These are really good.” They tasted like there was vanilla and cinnamon in them and they were moist with butter and syrup. 

Steve just nodded at him, but Bucky ignored it in favor of eating. When he was mostly finished, eating the last of his bacon with his metal hand as he sipped his coffee, Bucky finally noticed that Steve had been watching him. Not in that uncomfortable ‘you have something in your teeth’ kind of way, but like he was thinking, trying to figure something out. Bucky finally swallowed his last bite and started to get uncomfortable, shifting around on his stool. “What?” 

Steve startled and blinked, then put his coffee cup down. “What?”

“You were staring at me.” Bucky brushes his hand over his face, wondering if he was wrong and there really was something. “Is there something on my face?” 

Shaking his head, Steve ran his hand over his head and then rested it on the back of his neck. “No, you’re fine.” 

“Okay…” Bucky wasn’t sure what was happening. The air was tense around them and he didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t want to bring up the woman he’d seen, and he definitely didn’t want to bring up his conversation with Natasha, since it would inevitably lead to his confession of crying over him. 

“Look, I…” Steve trailed off when Bucky looked at him expectantly. Finally, he sighed and then walked toward the door. Bucky felt like his stomach was dropping out of his feet. Steve was just going to leave? Just like that? Come over and make him breakfast and then leave again? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Before he could work himself up into a proper fit over it - he was hungover, it wasn’t easy - Steve walked back, dropping a cardboard tube in front of Bucky, snagging his empty plate as he walked back into the kitchen and rinsing it off in the sink. “That’s what I came over for last night.” 

For a tube? Had he had it with him last night? Bucky couldn’t remember. He’d been too focused on his face and how sad-angry-happy-drunk he’d felt at seeing him. He grabbed it, unsure what to do. “What is it?” 

“Open it.” Steve wasn’t looking at him, just out the window above the sink. 

Bucky looked at the tube, confused, before he saw that there was a cap on the end. He pulled that off and then looked inside, seeing dark shapes inside. When he reached his fingers inside, he felt paper. Gently, he tugged it out, belatedly realizing that he was holding the tubes that paintings and important documents were shipped and stored in. When he unrolled it, he bit his lip, shocked at what he saw. 

It was a black and white picture of Bucky, sprawled across his couch. He had a pair of jeans on, resting incredibly low across his hips. Every scar he had was visible as his metal left arm was tucked under his head with his elbow facing the camera and his right thrown over the arm of the couch behind him. There was a smile on his face and he remembered the day, though he didn’t remember Steve taking a picture of it. As he looked at it, he saw a tiny SR in the corner, which made him look closer. It wasn’t a picture, it was a drawing. Steve had drawn him on a huge piece of paper, roughly three feet square. “I don’t understand.” His voice came out softer than he’d intended, but he didn’t know that he wanted to change it now that it was out. 

“I was going to give that to you after the wedding.” Steve turned around and he looked sad and a little resigned. 

Bucky stared for another few seconds before realizing that Steve wasn’t going to continue. “Why?” 

He could see the way Steve’s throat moved as he swallowed. “I wanted you to know how I feel about you.” After a beat of silence, he went on. “I love you, Buck.” 

Bucky only stared, his brain frozen. Apparently, it was the worst thing he could have done because Steve pushed away from the counter. “I’ll see myself out.” His voice sounded strained and he left. Just like that, he was alone in his apartment with those words just reverberating through his head, too confused to figure any of his emotions out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and support! 
> 
> If anyone is interested, there is another Stucky fic in the works, though it's a bit of a monster so I'm not even kind of close to posting it. I'm definitely looking for someone to pester me to write it and to talk about it with to keep me motivated, if anyone's interested. 
> 
> No, seriously. Do it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this has been a lot of fun to write. Thank you for sticking it out with my super outrageously inconvenient posting schedule! I know it's been a pain in the ass waiting, especially when I keep going back and forth between two weeks and a month between updates. I just really appreciate all of your comments and kudos and just knowing you all read this! 
> 
> Please read the end notes if you were interested in another fic by me.

Steve loved him. It didn’t make any sense. If he loved him, why didn’t he say something before? Or well, Bucky supposed that one actually already had an answer. He didn’t tell him because he was planning on telling him after the wedding, but Bucky had found out about the whole number thing and flipped out. That made sense, really. Who was the woman, though? If Steve loved him, why was he bringing a woman home so quickly after they… broke up or whatever? Was he really the type to fuck his problems away? Bucky hadn’t thought so, but maybe he was wrong. 

Maybe Steve had given up on all of this and Bucky was just dealing with the worst case of heartbreak he’s ever had in his life. That made the most sense, really. Bucky didn’t get good things, not really. Or, well. Sometimes he did. He had Natasha and Clint as his best friends. He had the most caring sister in the world. His mom was sweeter than any other mother he’d ever met. 

And Steve… 

Well, Steve was just across the hall and Bucky could go ask him if he wanted to be sure. 

Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Bucky bolted out of his chair and stopped long enough to carefully roll up the drawing and putting it back in the tube. Then he started toward the door and realized he was still in just his pajama pants. He stopped, then started toward his bedroom and stopped again. Steve had seen him naked before, so none of this was a surprise to him. They were the only apartments on this floor, so unless someone was actually looking, they wouldn’t see Bucky. He didn’t exactly plan to be in the hallway for long, anyway. Steve was obviously going to let him into his apartment and they were going to talk for like five minutes before they solved all their problems and then they’d have sex against Steve’s door. That was obviously how it was going to go because Bucky couldn’t deal with the idea that it might not. 

With his hand on his doorknob, he took a really deep breath. There were butterflies in his stomach, so many that he was nauseous with it. He didn’t even know when the last time he had had butterflies. He didn’t remember if they had ever been this bad and if them being this strong was a good thing or a bad one. His teeth bit into his lip as he forced himself to open the door. They needed to talk. Every damn thing that had gone so spectacularly wrong between them had been because they hadn’t talked about anything. Bucky was going to be brave. Bucky was going to be the one to bring it up. Bucky was going to be an adult about this. 

Bucky was going to be sick. 

Each step made him feel more and more nauseous, but he swallowed it down and knocked on Steve’s door anyway. It was a little more erratic than he usually made it because he was pretty sure his hand didn’t even land on the door as often as it was meant to. It didn’t matter, though, because Steve opened the door and Bucky suddenly forgot his entire plan. “Uh…” Steve was only staring at him, looking closed off in a way he never had before. Bucky had to say something, anything, to make that stop. “Who was that woman?” 

The blank look was replaced by one that more confused than anything else. “What woman?” 

“The day you came over to talk to me. Earlier in the day I was coming out to say I forgave you for Tony’s number.” Bucky swallowed, remembering he hadn’t actually had a chance to do that. “I saw you leading a woman in. I thought…” He didn’t want to say what he thought. 

Steve seemed to understand what he meant, though, because he shook his head. “That was Sharon. She was coming by to look at the painting she commissioned of her grandmother.” All at once, Steve looked sheepish. Bucky kept his mouth shut, hoping that if he just waited him out, Steve would spill whatever it was on his mind. It worked. “I haven’t actually slept with anyone else since July.” He was blushing? Steve Rogers was blushing? 

Bucky took a few seconds absorbing both of those things. “July? But we didn’t…” Steve shook his head. “But you were still on my couch in the morning?” 

The blush got darker. Bucky was floored by the fact that Steve Rogers actually blushed. He was always so blase about things that Bucky would have thought he didn’t even know the meaning of the word. “I just.. Liked seeing you. So I just kept coming around.” 

Everything clicked into place for Bucky. Steve hadn’t given him Tony’s number because he felt inadequate. It was a shady thing to do, but he’d apologized and Bucky really believed he’d never do something like that again. He hadn’t been sleeping with anyone else because he wanted to be with _Bucky_. All at once, he couldn’t stop his smile from getting so big it kind of hurt his cheeks. 

Steve, of course, couldn’t read his mind, so he didn’t know what was making him smile so much. He understood pretty well when Bucky grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him into a kiss. One second, Steve was stiff and surprised, the next he was kissing Bucky back and was holding him tightly. When he finally pulled away, he was smiling and Bucky was smiling back. As he bent in for a kiss, though, Bucky pushed him back a little. “Wait.” 

“What?” Steve looked like he was half impatient and half suspicious. 

Bucky wanted to draw it out, just to make Steve squirm, but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to get Steve in his bedroom as quickly as possible. He’d missed him and now he knew that everything was good again. “We’re going to do this right this time, right? You’re not hiding anything from me now?” 

Steve shook his head. “I’m not hiding anything.” He stopped and bit his lip after that. “Or, if there’s anything I’m not telling you, it’s just because I haven’t thought of it. Anything you ask, I’ll tell you.” 

“Anything?” Bucky smirked and Steve rolled his eyes.

This time, when Steve went to kiss him, he didn’t stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay my friends! 
> 
> Stucky.  
> Bands.  
> Pining.  
> Other Avengers!  
> Eeeeeee!   
> Sound interesting? Hell yeah it does. If you like all of those things (Or even some of them, I'm not even slightly picky) and are  
>  \- Demanding and not afraid to show it   
>  \- Have loads of free time and aren't planning to be productive at all  
>  \- Are uncomfortably obsessed with reading fanfiction by Official Shoddy Quality Authors  
> You may be qualified to be a KendraKicker(TM)!  
> Please pester me at my tumbler (ketaminekendra.tumblr.com)!
> 
> But wait! There's MORE!  
> This Demanding Author (that's me!) is also on the look out for a KetamineBeta! If you're interested, mention it in a message on tumblr and I will figure things out with you! 
> 
>  
> 
> Seriously, though, I need lots of help, so if you feel so inclined, let me know. Anon is on on my tumblr so I think that means that people can message me even if they don't have one? If not, let me know here and we'll see if we can figure things out there.


End file.
